


This and That

by InterstellarBlue (nagi_schwarz), nagi_schwarz



Series: Prompt Fills 2020 [21]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 21,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25621885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/InterstellarBlue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Collected short prompt fills for 2020.Various pairings and gen, AUs and fusions and everything in between. Check individual chapters for characters/pairings and warnings.
Series: Prompt Fills 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610299
Comments: 47
Kudos: 85





	1. Venom AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the AU comment_fic prompt: "any, any, Venom AU."
> 
> Set in the To Be Continued universe. Eunwoo is human. Moonbin is the alien sort of possessing him.
> 
> Gen. Mildly crack-y.

“I’m hungry,” Moonbin said.  
  
Eunwoo, wearing a perfectly calm expression, bowed as he passed his homeroom teacher, then rounded the corner and fished his cellphone out of his pocket. “You’re always hungry,” he said between gritted teeth.  
  
“Doesn’t Sanha’s mom make really great tteokbokki?” Moonbin’s energy thrummed through Eunwoo’s blood, his hunger rumbling in Eunwoo’s stomach, his antsiness buzzing in the back of Eunwoo’s mind.  
  
“Yes, Sanha’s mom does make delicious tteokbokki,” Eunwoo said. He passed Sanha’s girlfriend right then.  
  
Yejin looked startled.  
  
Eunwoo flashed her a brief smile. It was a good thing he had a reputation for being both hot-tempered and coldly aloof.  
  
“But we’re not going to follow Sanha home for tteokbokki, because Sanha isn’t going home either. We’re going to go to the practice room and finish writing a song.” Eunwoo headed down the stairs and toward the front steps of the school. Luckily the practice room was nearby.  
  
“I am a badass alien entity who can turn you into a superhero and all you want to do is write a mushy love song for your school festival.”  
  
For a badass alien entity, Moonbin had the attention span of a gnat and the impulse control of a toddler.  
  
“I don’t want to be a superhero. I want to be a musician,” Eunwoo said. He took the stairs up to the practice room two at a time.  
  
Moonbin sulked in the back of Eunwoo’s mind. “You’re so smart. I mean, only a genius like you would have been allowed in the lab like that, to even get close to me. There’s a reason they picked you as an intern. But you don’t want to be a scientist and change the world.”  
  
“I like music,” Eunwoo said firmly. “And you like food, right?”  
  
“So?”  
  
Eunwoo paused at the door. “So if we dance really hard, we can have so much food after.”  
  
Moonbin was a badass alien - and also somehow a very slick dancer. Which was handy, because Eunwoo was by far the worst dancer on his team, and he knew Rocky was inches away from strangling him in frustration.  
  
“Tteokbokki?” Moonbin perked up immediately.  
  
“Maybe even some beef.”  
  
Moonbin slithered toward the forefront of Eunwoo’s consciousness. “All right. Let me take over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I don't actually think Eunwoo is a terrible dancer.


	2. Must Like Dogs - Binhyuk non-famous AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the pets comment_fic prompt: "Any, any m/m, must like dogs."
> 
> Non-famous AU, BinHyuk + Sua...and, of course, a dog, G

Bin was nervous. This was it, the final test. Minhyuk was his ideal type: handsome, sweet, polite, a fantastic dancer. Where Bin was impatient and sometimes thoughtless, Minhyuk was patient, thoughtful. They’d clicked on that first date (a blind date Myungjun and Sanha had set up for him, that he’d only agreed to because they’d instituted a noisy aegyo campaign till he gave in), and Bin had had so much fun on their second and third dates. Bin desperately wanted things to work out with Minhyuk, because he _liked_ Minhyuk.  
  
But Bin was also responsible for his little sister till she came of age, and where Sua went, her guide dog Minho went too.  
  
If Minho didn’t like someone, it was over.  
  
Minho hadn’t liked the last dozen guys Bin had brought home, and half of those guys hadn’t liked dogs either.  
  
Bin hesitated at the front door before he put in the code. Minhyuk stood a respectful distance away, because giving someone your door code was a big deal. “My sister’s dog is really big -”  
  
Minho barking like a maniac made both of them jump.  
  
Minhyuk said, “I like dogs.”  
  
The last six guys had said that.  
  
Bin put in the code and opened the door.  
  
Minho didn’t rush out, because he was too well trained for that, but he didn’t stop barking.  
  
“Minho, it’s fine, he’s a friend,” Bin said desperately.  
  
Sua, reading a book on the couch, made no move to help.  
  
“Minhyuk, this is Sua, my sister, and Minho, her guide dog.”  
  
While Minho wasn’t in his harness, he wasn’t working, and there was someone new for him to meet.  
  
And chase off.  
  
Minhyuk knelt and held out his hand so Minho could sniff.  
  
Like that, Minho stopped barking and nuzzled Minhyuk’s hand, demanding pets.  
  
“Hey, boy,” Minhyuk said, scratching him enthusiastically behind the ear.  
  
Minho’s tongue lolled.  
  
Sua lifted her hand off the page. “Hello, Minhyuk. Welcome to our home.”  
  
“Hello, Sua,” Minhyuk said. “Thank you. Nice to meet you.” He followed Bin into the house.  
  
Minho trotted after him, happy.  
  
“Traitor,” Sua called after her dog, but he ignored her.  
  
Bin gave Minhyuk the quick tour - den, kitchen, downstairs bathroom, the little study with the piano and almost enough space to dance, Sua’s room, then upstairs with the guest room and Bin’s room.  
  
“Your room?” Minhyuk raised his eyebrows.  
  
Bin nodded.  
  
“Does your sister have super good hearing? I know not all blind people do -”  
  
“She does,” Bin said.  
  
“Well, I guess all we can do is this,” Minhyuk said, and leaned in to kiss him.  
  
Bin closed his eyes - and was winded when Minho barged between them, jumping up and licking Minhyuk’s face.  
  
“Maybe it’s not a good thing that he likes you,” Bin muttered.  
  
Minhyuk, laughing, gently shook Minho off and patted his head. “Don’t worry. I like you more.” He kept Minho distracted with head scratches and leaned in again.  
  
Bin kissed him back, and all was right with the world.


	3. Binhyuk dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the titles comment_fic prompt: "To Be Continued, Moon Bin +/ Park Minhyuk, Alone Together (Fall Out Boy)."
> 
> BinHyuk, G, set after the StarFruit fan meeting thingie, fluff

“You’re a traitor,” Minhyuk said. He was sitting on the floor of the practice room, trying to catch his breath.  
  
“Me? How?” Bin plopped down beside him. They were the last two practicing. The others had gone back to the dorm ahead of them.  
  
“During the fan PD thing today. Making me join you for the freestyle dance thing.” Minhyuk cast him a look.  
  
Bin rolled his eyes. “We’ve done freestyle together like that for seven years. You’re the one who ended it with skinship anyway.”  
  
“It’s what the fans wanted and you know it.” Minhyuk sighed and rolled his shoulders.  
  
Bin considered. “Yeah. But it’s not what I would have wanted.”  
  
Minhyuk opened one eye and peered at him. “Oh yeah? What would you have wanted?”  
  
Bin stood up, tugged off his snapback. He crossed the practice room, stretched up on his toes, and put it over the DDOCA camera lens.  
  
“What are you doing?” Minhyuk asked.  
  
Bin crossed the room back to him, held out a hand. Minhyuk accepted it, let Bin pull him to his feet.  
  
Bin reached into his pocket for his phone.  
  
“What’s this? Are we sneaking out to the convenience store for illegal junk food?” Minhyuk kept his voice low.  
  
But then familiar piano chords spilled from Bin’s phone. Innocent Love.  
  
Minhyuk frowned. “What…?”  
  
Bin turned the song up all the way and pocketed his phone, then pulled Minhyuk into his arms. “Dance with me.”  
  
Minhyuk was confused at first, because he never danced with anyone like this. But Bin’s arms around his waist were firm, warm, strong. So Minhyuk reached up and put his arms around Bin’s neck, like he always saw in prom scenes in American teen movies, and together they swayed to the beat.  
  
“Just so you know,” Bin said, “you’re my first love.”  
  
Minhyuk smiled, leaned up, and kissed him.


	4. Myungjin fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the titles comment_fic prompt: "any, any/any, What Happens in Paradise by Elin Hilderbrand."
> 
> MyungJin, G. MJ and Jinjin have a fluffy little interlude while they're shooting Traveling Alone Together.

“If you weren’t so totally gay and in love with me, I’d be jealous,” MJ said.  
  
He and Jinjin were sprawled side by side on Jinjin’s bed in their hotel room, safe from the ever-present cameras.  
  
Jinjin snuggled close to him. “Why?” His eyes were closed, and he looked tired. And young. When he was totally bare-faced, he looked even younger. Makeup made MJ look younger than he was. It made Jinjin look older.  
  
No makeup for two years. MJ sometimes looked forward to his mandatory military enlistment with terrible glee.  
  
Two years without makeup.  
  
Two years without Jinjin. Four, if Jinjin enlisted at the last possible time, because he was two years younger.  
  
“Why would I be jealous?” MJ buried his face against Jinjin’s shoulder. “Because I got up at the crack of dawn to run a 10k while you got to sleep in, and then you ate your way across this paradise of an island with a beautiful woman by your side.”  
  
“We didn’t find any coconut soup,” Jinjin murmured. “Besides, what happens in paradise stays in paradise. I’m going home with you.”  
  
“You’d better.”  
  
Jinjin opened his eyes. “My home is always with you.”  
  
MJ smiled. “I love you too.”


	5. JinCha crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the 80's movies comment_fic prompt: "Any, any/any, body heat (1981)"
> 
> Crack. Vague JinCha. G. Inspired by the 4th AAF posters. Including shameless references to old DDOCA footage.

“Stay close to me,” Jinwoo murmured, tugging Dongmin closer.  
  
Already Dongmin’s teeth were chattering. He was so sensitive to the cold. Jinwoo wrapped his arms around Dongmin from behind and curled Dongmin’s hands in his, blowing on them.  
  
“We have to stay quiet,” Jinwoo breathed in Dongmin’s ear.  
  
Dongmin nodded, trembling against Jinwoo. Their breath steamed in the air. Jinwoo had seen in an anime one time, where ninjas were stalking an assassin during winter, and they’d swallow mouthfuls of snow to disguise their breath in the cold air. He wished they could do that now, but if he plunged his hands into snow right then he’d probably scream.  
  
Why was it so cold? They were indoors. Classes were in session. Surely the heat in this part of [campus](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EO2BxO1UUAAtQ2w?format=jpg&name=900x900) hadn’t been shut off completely. That would make pipes freeze, wouldn’t it?  
  
Surely the cold was just a product of the weather not - something else.  
  
Like ghosts.  
  
Jinwoo had seen in movies how ghosts sucked all the heat and light - and eventually life - out of a room.  
  
But there was no such thing as ghosts. This was just the others playing a stupid prank. Wasn't it? It had been Minhyuk’s idea to break into the old gym in the middle of the night and see if the rumors of a ghost were really true. It was Myungjun who’d gone haring off into the shadows by himself, startling Jinwoo and Sanha so badly that they’d dropped their flashlights. It was Bin who’d insisted Myungjun was _up to something_ and they should split up, circle around, and scare him.  
  
Only now they were separated, it was dark, and there was no way to find each other without giving their positions away, and Jinwoo was sure - was _sure_ \- there was someone else in the building besides them. Someone who wasn’t campus security or another student. Someone who _slithered_ and _skittered_ in the darkness.  
  
The first thing Jinwoo had done was silence his cellphone, because he’d seen the horror movies where the killer found his victims by listening for their cellphones, waiting for them to ring or even just buzz with a text message. Or light up. There was no good way to try to contact the others without giving away their position. One moment Jinwoo and Dongmin had been headed for the stairs that would lead to the second floor where the dance studios were, the next they’d been running as someone chased them, boots thundering, breath coming in grunts and growls.  
  
And now they were in what felt like a closet, the smell of old leather and dust heavy around them, shivering because the building was so cold. If Jinwoo was cold, Dongmin had to be in agony, because the cold always cut him straight to the bone.  
  
Dongmin’s teeth rattled in his skull. It was getting colder. He was getting worse. Jinwoo was a photography major and Dongmin was a law student - neither of them knew anything about first aid. Jinwoo knew body heat was an effective way to stay warm, but it wasn’t a go-to option. Besides, if they did strip down to cuddle close, what would they be able to cover themselves with? They needed blankets or something, right?  
  
Jinwoo shifted. Dongmin was taller than him by a good four inches, but he was the vulnerable one right now. It took a bit of wrangling, but eventually Jinwoo managed to turn Dongmin around so they were facing each other.

“Come closer. You’ll freeze,” Jinwoo whispered.

He felt the soft brush of Dongmin’s hair as he nodded, and then Dongmin was tucked under his chin, still shuddering from the cold. Jinwoo wrapped his arms across Dongmin’s back and then, after a brief hesitation, slung his legs over Dongmin’s hips, tugged him in even closer.  
  
Dongmin let out a soft sound of surprise, but Jinwoo shook his head, hushing him. They could both still hear the distant thunder of boots and heavy breathing. They had to stay still and stay quiet.  
  
Both of them flinched when they heard a high-pitched shriek. Myungjun’s voice. Was he screaming or laughing?  
  
Jinwoo bit down hard on his own lip when a pair of icy hands came into contact with his skin, but then hot puffs of breath and _Sorry! Sorry!_ tickled his throat.  
  
Jinwoo supposed he could let it go when Dongmin’s shivers abated a little. Jinwoo could feel the other boy’s heart beating. He curled around Dongmin more politely and breathed reassurances into his skin. Everything would be all right. They just had to make it through till morning.  
  


*

Jinwoo and Dongmin woke the next morning, aching and cold and curled around each other like limpets, when three flashlights shone in their faces.  
  
“What are you two doing in this closet?” Minhyuk asked.  
  
“Sharing body heat, obviously,” Myungjun said with a smirk. “You know how sensitive to cold Dongmin is.”  
  
“We were hiding,” Jinwoo said blearily, trying to disentangle from Dongmin to rub his eyes. He’d slept with his contacts in.  
  
“Hiding from what?” Sanha asked.  
  
It was Bin who screamed.  
  
“What? Where?” Minhyuk demanded, branding his flashlight like a police baton.  
  
Myungjun pointed, hand trembling. “It’s - it’s a [cicada!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EON9R1i3Dbk)”


	6. JinCha fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 90's music comment_fic prompt: "To Be Continued, Cha Eunwoo/any, Kiss from a Rose (Seal, 1994)."
> 
> JinCha, G. Famous/not famous AU. Report Jinwoo is out to get a story on famous actor Cha Eunwoo. Set in the TBC universe vaguely (but an AU of that) so they're the same age.
> 
> Cameo by MX Kihyun.

Jinwoo hunkered down behind the massive textbook about something-or-other science-y, cap pulled low, mask pulled high. He couldn’t wear sunglasses while he was taking pictures - and what wonderful pictures they were, of the nation’s darling, actor-model-singer Cha Eunwoo walking across campus and accepting roses from blushing, bashful, beautiful coeds.

Every time a girl came up to him and stopped him with a nervous, _Oppa?_ he paused and smiled graciously, accepted the flower, inhaled its scent. It was his first semester as a university student - and his coming-of-age day. Of course he’d attended the traditional coming-of-age ceremony with his parents, but the traditional gifts on a day like today were flowers, a kiss, and a bottle of cologne. None of the girls were brave enough to offer him a kiss, but offering a flower was worth the nerves.

Jinwoo tracked Eunwoo’s path across the quad. The beauty of digital cameras was that he could turn off the sound of the shutter. He didn’t need it anyway, adjusting the aperture and focus with expert hands. Plenty of other people were taking sneaky pictures of Eunwoo, and he even posed for some photos with the girls who gave him flowers, but none of those pictures would look as good as Jinwoo’s, because he had an epic zoom lens and years of experience as a photographer from long before he’d landed a job at the magazine, and -

“Reporter Park? I’m assuming you have the twelfth flower to make it an even dozen.”

Jinwoo jerked back from his camera and peered over the top of the textbook. Cha Eunwoo stood in front of his table, eleven individually-wrapped roses in hand. He smirked.

Jinwoo tugged down his mask. “Ah - Cha Eunwoo-ssi, what brings you here?”

“The pictures you’ve taken of me. Delete them.”

“Pictures of you? What pictures of you?” Jinwoo fumbled for the SD card, glad that he’d harassed Kihyun into showing him how to sync his camera to his phone for emergencies like this one. “I’m doing a study on campus architecture.”

Eunwoo slid into the chair opposite him and laid the roses on the table. “My coming-of-age day. I’m flattered. There are so many other more popular, talented celebrities who are also coming of age today. Like Yeo Jingoo.” He leaned in. “But then today is your coming-of-age day, too, isn’t it? Seeing as how we were the same grade.”

Jinwoo blinked. Eunwoo remembered him from high school?

“From what I’ve already seen of the way you’ve decimated my colleagues’ privacy, I know you’re very good at getting the story,” Eunwoo said.

Time for a tactical retreat.

Jinwoo popped the SD card out of his camera and held it out. “I’m very sorry, Eunwoo-ssi. I’ll just be going now.”

Eunwoo’s hand closed over his wrist. “But you know the first rule of being a reporter, don’t you?”

_Always get the story,_ Jinwoo thought. He’d heard it a dozen times, usually dodging heavy thesauruses his editor was flinging at him as he dashed out the door to get his next scoop.

“Don’t _be_ the story,” Eunwoo said. He tugged on Jinwoo’s wrist, and Jinwoo almost tumbled across the table.

Eunwoo kissed him.

Jinwoo’s head spun with the scent of crushed roses and Eunwoo’s subtle cologne and, most of all, the feel of Eunwoo’s lips on his.

Jinwoo yanked himself backward, heart racing. He stared at Eunwoo, horrified. “What - what are you _doing?”_

“Telling my own story,” Eunwoo said. “Now - go on a date with me? Since everyone thinks we’re already dating.”

Jinwoo stared at him. “You - that’s not how this works. This isn’t some kind of drama.”

“I’m an actor,” Eunwoo drawled. “I make drama. So, are you going to turn me down? Make front-page news by being the one person in this country who’s crazy enough to turn down a date offer from me?”

Jinwoo said, “You know it will be impossible for us to go on a date anywhere in this country for a week.”

“Then we could go somewhere else. Ever been to Singapore? Or maybe Dubai. Or -” Eunwoo leaned in and lowered his voice. “You could come over to my place and I’ll cook. I’m a pretty good cook. We could stay inside and watch movies till we fall asleep. Or instead of movies -”

“Dinner and a movie it is,” Jinwoo said quickly, feeling his face heat.

Eunwoo pushed a card across the table. “You know my number.” He stood up and walked away, leaving the roses behind.

Jinwoo stared at the scattered petals and wondered what the hell had just happened to him.

“So, are you really going on the date?” Kihyun asked.

Jinwoo spun around.

Kihyun was studying the screen on his camera, checking his pictures. He had a twelfth rose tucked into his camera bag. Kihyun, the one who’d given Jinwoo the tip that Cha Eunwoo might be meeting his girlfriend on campus.

Jinwoo said, “I’m going to kill you.”

He lunged.

Kihyun fled.

*

Jinwoo did call Eunwoo later that night and set up a date.


	7. Enlisted MJ gen fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the song lyrics comment_fic prompt:
> 
> "Any K-drama/K-pop, Any,
> 
> Miss your voice, the touch of your hand  
> Just long to know that you understand  
> My buddy, my buddy  
> Your buddy misses you  
> (Doris Day)"
> 
> G. Gen. MJ on his first night in the military. OMCs.

“Stop moving!” the man to Myungjun’s left grumbled.  
  
He tucked his elbows closer into his sides and murmured an apology. He’d heard from his seniors in the industry, the ones who’d returned from their enlistment, that enlistment was hard, but it wouldn’t be any harder than what he’d done as an idol. Sleep deprivation. Food deprivation. Endless workouts. Getting yelled at and being told he was too slow, too weak, not good enough. Being cut off from friends and family. Sleeping on the floor with a bunch of men he didn’t know. The months would fly by, and once he made it through basic and could contact the outside world again, he’d be fine.  
  
So Myungjun had gone out to dinner for beef with his parents and older brother the night before his enlistment, as was traditional, and then he’d showed up at the base with a single duffel bag full of clothes, and it was kind of like moving into the dorms as a trainee for the first time.  
  
Because his team wasn’t that popular - Eunwoo was the most popular, and then more as an actor than as a singer - Myungjun didn’t expect anyone to recognize him (especially not with his new haircut, without makeup, in a uniform), and he figured he could put his head down and work hard and try not to make the other men in his unit hate him. Besides, he’d dealt with plenty of hatred from antis and stans for other groups.  
  
He hadn’t been prepared for how much he’d miss his teammates. He was used to stumbling into bed at the end of the day and burying his head under his pillow to block out the glare and noise of Sanha playing video games late into the night, to stirring occasionally when Minhyuk, who was a restless sleeper, rolled into him and snuggled up. He missed the background din of Jinwoo and Eunwoo telling Sanha to stop gaming and go to bed, of Bin complaining that someone had drunk all his banana milk again.  
  
Myungjun sighed and tried to count sheep. Usually it was Jinwoo who would count sheep for him if he had trouble sleeping, Jinwoo with his deep, soothing voice.  
  
The man who’d grumbled at Myungjun started snoring, and Myungjun shoved his head under his pillow with another sigh.  
  
“Is it weird for you, having roommates?” the man on the other side of Myungjun asked.  
  
“No,” Myungjun whispered. “I just miss my brothers.”  
  
“Ah. I only have a sister. This is strange for me. How many brothers do you have?”  
  
“Five,” Myungjun said.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
“Six,” Myungjun amended. “But my older brother is much older, has been married for a while. I haven’t lived with him in a long time.”  
  
“What do you miss about your brothers?”  
  
Myungjun thought of Eunwoo curled in a corner and trying to read a book while Bin tried to pester him, of Jinwoo and Sanha wrestling on the couch, of Minhyuk taking over most of the floor space in the den so he could do his stretching.  
  
“Everything.”  
  
“Well - how about we be brothers? For the next little while. You can teach me how to live with brothers, and I can - what can I do for you?”  
  
Myungjun peered at the other man in the darkness. He looked young, barely come of age.  
  
“Can you sing?”


	8. Myungjin Binwoo Sanhyuk dorm fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the song titles comment_fic prompt: "To Be Continued, any, Waltz for the Moon (Nobuo Uematsu)."
> 
> G. Myungjin. Binwoo. Sanhyuk. Fluffy moment in the dorms.

“Sanha, are you done yet?” Bin asked.  
  
Sanha was the only one of them with a laptop in the dorm, and as a rule they took turns using it to catch up on emails, dramas, movies, and games. But it was also Sanha’s, and Sanha had a bit of a video game addiction.  
  
“Almost,” Sanha said. “I just need to get through the next couple of screens so I can get the reward.”  
  
Eunwoo peered over Sanha’s shoulder at the screen. “Those are really old-fashioned graphics. What are you playing?”  
  
“A video game that’s as old as Bin,” Sanha said.  
  
“Yah!” Bin prodded Sanha’s leg with his foot. “Are you calling me _really old-fashioned?”_  
  
“Eunwoo said it, not me.” Sanha grinned.  
  
“It’s Final Fantasy VIII,” Rocky said. He was sitting on the floor, legs folded in front of him, doing some kind of complicated yoga stretch.  
  
“How long is this going to take?” Bin asked.  
  
“Let me enjoy my prize.” Sanha swatted at him, then sat back with a happy sigh.  
  
“What’s your prize?” MJ asked, peeking over his other shoulder. “Oh. It’s a cut scene. That’s pretty smooth animation, for how old the game is.”  
  
“It’s not that old,” Bin snapped.  
  
MJ hummed. “Pretty song, though.” He jumped up, held out a hand. “Someone should dance with me.”  
  
Jinjin obliged, swept MJ into his arms, and they began to waltz.  
  
“Nobuo Uematsu, Waltz for the Moon,” Eunwoo said absently, going back to his homework.  
  
“How do you know that?” Bin asked.  
  
Eunwoo glanced at him briefly. “I know lots of songs about the moon.”  
  
Bin wasn’t sure how to interpret that.  
  
Sanha said, “The hyungs are being gross! Get a room!”  
  
Bin saw that Jinjin had MJ pressed close, was gazing into his eyes as MJ steered them deftly around the small living room, moving smoothly to the music.  
  
“They’re just dancing,” Eunwoo said. “The waltz is very romantic.”  
  
Bin jumped to his feet, offered Eunwoo a hand. “In that case, dance with me.”  
  
Eunwoo set his book aside and rose.  
  
“Fine!” Sanha clicked his mouse a few times, and the music stopped. “Fine. Whoever wants it next, you can have it.”  
  
Rocky unfolded himself and slid up onto the couch, tugged the laptop onto his knees. “What did you say the song was called again?” He looked at Eunwoo.  
  
Sanha groaned and covered his eyes.  
  
Rocky fired up the song, and then he tugged on Sanha’s arm. “Dance with me.”  
  
Sanha peeked between his fingers at his teammate. “Okay.”


	9. Myungjincha daemon AU h/c

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the daemon AU comment_fic prompt: "Any, any/any, their daemons cuddling together"
> 
> Gen. OT3 MyungJinCha. Idols in a universe with daemons. Fluffy, mild h/c.

It was fairly common, to see Rudy and Bomi cuddling together, Bomi’s red vulpine form tucked between Rudy’s massive paws, his head resting gently on her back. But then it was just as common to see Jinwoo and Myungjun cuddling together, Jinwoo wrapped protectively around Myungjun even though Myungjun was taller (not by much) and older (not that anyone remembered). It was less common to see Bora with them. Granted, seeing a sleek, long-legged deer curled up with a German Shepherd and a fox was a strange sight indeed.  
  
Bora was rarely affectionate with anyone but Dongmin, even though Jinwoo and Myungjun had welcomed Dongmin into their relationship with gentle hands and warm smiles more than six months ago. That Bora was letting Bomi climb on her and Rudy put his head on her spoke to just how tense Dongmin was.  
  
All three daemons were out of sight of the multiple cameras aimed on the boys. Myungjun’s chest tightened when one of the show’s hosts broke out the dreaded phrase: face genius.  
  
Dongmin’s expression went dangerously blank.  
  
Bin, because he was quick on his feet, said, “Eunwoo’s a regular genius. He got third in his entire school one time.”  
  
“That was before I became a trainee,” Dongmin said modestly, because no one got very good grades as a trainee, all that extra study time eaten up by training time.  
  
“You’re incredibly handsome, you sing well, you act well, but you’re the team’s worst dancer, aren’t you?” the other host asked.  
  
Jinwoo was always slow to speak, not because he was stupid but because he was thoughtful.  
  
Myungjun said, without missing a beat, “Actually, that’s me. I mean, I’m not a bad dancer. It’s just that the others are so good. Especially Rocky. More than one famous choreographer has named Rocky as one of the best dancers of our generation.”  
  
Minhyuk said, “I started dancing when I was four.”  
  
Off to the side of the stage, Bomi was wedged right up between Bora’s forelegs, next to her heart, while Rudy was pressed against her back, as protective as he could be given that he was shorter than her.  
  
Myungjun said, “Everyone looks like a bad dancer next to Rocky. He’s so good that when he does the moves wrong, all the fans think he did it right and that I did it wrong. It’s so unfair.”  
  
Bin laughed.  
  
Sanha said, “Jinwoo-hyung got it wrong that time too.”  
  
Minhyuk said, “Jinwoo and I just agreed to do it differently.”  
  
Jinwoo said, “It pays to be in the dance line.”  
  
Myungjun put a hand on Dongmin’s shoulder, the most physical affection he could pull off when they were seated as far apart as they were. “Dongmin and I rock the vocal line and everyone knows it.”  
  
Dongmin said, loyally, “In M-hyung’s defense, he has one less year of training than the rest of us, but he works very hard on his dancing.”  
  
Myungjun beamed at him.  
  
The other host asked the next question, and Dongmin relaxed fractionally.  
  
All three daemons remained close together till the end of the interview, sharing warmth and comfort that the boys couldn’t give each other with the show’s entire production crew watching.  
  
As soon as the cameras were off and the boys had thanked the crew and staff, they vanished back to the changing room, their daemons trailing after them.  
  
Rocky’s wolf, Seoyeon, guarded the door, Bin and Sanha’s cats Roa and Kiyoong acting as Seoyeon’s tiny, steely-gazed lieutenants.  
  
Myungjun pulled Jinwoo and Dongmin into an embrace, held them both tightly.  
  
“I’m fine,” Dongmin said.  
  
“It’s okay if you’re not fine,” Myungjun said.  
  
Jinwoo said nothing, just kissed Dongmin softly until he relaxed in Myungjun’s arms.  
  
When they parted to catch their breath, Myungjun said, “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Daemons](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%C3%A6mon_\(His_Dark_Materials\)) for those unfamiliar with the concept. Originally from His Dark Materials, but now sort of a trope/AU on their own, like Sentinel/Guide, which also originated in a specific fandom.
> 
> Cookies (and by cookies I mean at least 1k words of the ship of your choice - minus Sanha, sorry Sanha, you get no top-billed love from me) to whoever first correctly identifies Jinwoo's daemon.


	10. OT6 gen h/c humor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the hurt/comfort comment_fic prompt: "Any K-drama/K-pop, Any, a work-related injury."
> 
> Ripped from the [headlines!](https://youtu.be/e03cyVz6U4c). Eunwoo versus a nail. Gen. Rated T for mild medical trauma. Half sympathy and teamwork and efficiency, half jokes and unfortunate puns.

“Everybody ready?”  
  
Minhyuk crouched to spring.  
  
The others crouched beside him.  
  
The director raised her arm high. “One, two, three, jump!”  
  
Music videos were tricky. They had to express the mood for the music, but also the concept for the music video, which might or might not have a story, which story may not become apparent till editing long after they were done filming, but they also had to express the choreography, and also the group’s concept as a whole, which was _cute and refreshing._ So Minhyuk had to put a lot of energy into the jump. He had to look cute for the camera. He had to hit the jump at the same time as his teammates and at the right beat in the music. And he had to be in character for the music video, whatever his character was.  
  
They shouted as one, because shouting gave them energy.  
  
Minhyuk landed on his feet. Jinwoo landed on his feet. Bin landed on his feet. Sanha landed in a crouch, straightened up. Myungjun landed a little too hard and winced when the impact hurt his knees and ankles. Dongmin landed on his feet, windmilled his arms, fell backward.  
  
The director shouted, “Cut!” Then she leaned over and checked the footage on the monitor. She straightened up, smiled. “All right, everyone. That’s a wrap!”  
  
Jinwoo started thanking the crew first. Sanha, Minhyuk, and Myungjun joined in. Bin reached out, offered Dongmin a hand, hauled him to his feet. They turned to thank the crew as well.  
  
Sanha said, “Yah!”  
  
Dongmin spun around, anger sparking in his gaze, because they’d been filming all night and he was filming a major drama full time on top of that and -  
  
“Hyung, you’re bleeding!” Sanha pointed.  
  
Dongmin frowned, looked down. Blood was spreading down the back of his pants. “What?” The pain set in a moment later. “Ow!”  
  
Myungjun swooned. Jinwoo lunged and caught him.  
  
“Manager-nim!” Bin shouted.  
  
Minhyuk reached out, caught Dongmin’s shoulder, steadied him. “Hyung, are you all right? What happened?”  
  
Sanha pointed to some scrap lumber that was below the platform they’d jumped off of. “There’s blood on the boards there.”  
  
Sharp nails were sticking out of some of the boards.  
  
Manager was on the other side of Dongmin in an instant, an arm around his waist to steady him. “I’ll take him to the hospital. The rest of you, get back to the dorms.” He reached into his pocket, got out his wallet, shoved a fistful of cash at Minhyuk, and then he was helping Dongmin hobble to the door.  
  
“You heard Manager,” Jinwoo said. He plucked the cash from Minhyuk’s hand. “We’d better go.”  
  
The director was shouting at some of the production staff, so rather than try to say formal goodbyes the boys hurried back to the changing room and changed into their own clothes. Somewhere between changing his pants and squirming into a new shirt, Jinwoo ordered a cab with his phone, and once all of them were back in their own clothes, they grabbed their gear and ran outside to meet it. Myungjun, who was very squeamish when it came to blood, was still pale and a little dizzy, so Bin took control of giving the cab driver the address to the dorm while Jinwoo was on the phone with Dongmin, talking to him to keep him calm while Manager called the company to report what had happened and get Dongmin’s insurance information and medical records emailed to him. Sanha and Minhyuk took charge of Myungjun, plying him with juice and some snacks to keep his blood sugar up.  
  
Back at the dorm, Jinwoo paid the cab driver, and then they made a beeline for the safety of their home. Myungjun got to shower first, so Minhyuk started brewing tea and coffee. Jinwoo gave Sanha his credit card, so Sanha ordered food for them while Jinwoo remained on the phone with Dongmin. He had to hang up once they got to the hospital, and then it was Jinwoo’s turn to shower.  
  
Myungjun huddled on the couch with a mug full of tea. Sanha curled up beside him but said nothing, playing on his phone and waiting till he received a text message that their food had arrived.

While Jinwoo was in the shower, his phone rang, so Minhyuk answered it. Someone from the company would be coming by to pick up some clothes for Dongmin, so they’d better have some ready. Since Bin and Dongmin were roommates, it made the most sense for Bin to pick some out. He and Minhyuk made sure they were folded neatly, and they threw in Dongmin’s toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and a pack of makeup wipes for good measure. It was Myungjun, fortified by tea, who reminded them to put some sunglasses and a mask in there as well, so no one would see Dongmin barefaced.  
  
After that, it was Bin’s turn to shower. The food arrived, so Minhyuk and Sanha set about divvying it up. A junior manager knocked on the door a few minutes later, and Jinwoo gave her the bag with Dongmin’s clothes and sundries in it.  
  
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Sanha asked.  
  
Myungjun’s brow furrowed. “There was a lot of blood.”  
  
“He was calm the entire time I was on the phone with him,” Jinwoo said. “And he could move his leg and kind of walk on it, so I’m sure it was nothing serious.”  
  
Everyone had showered and the food - save a portion set aside for Dongmin, the least spicy helpings - was almost all done before Dongmin finally returned home, Manager with him. Manager helped Dongmin straight into the room he shared with Bin, and Dongmin eased himself gingerly down onto the bed on his stomach. He sighed and rested his chin in his hands. Manager gave Jinwoo some pain medicine, bandages, and wound cream, made Jinwoo recite back the aftercare instructions, and then he was gone.  
  
The rest of them gathered around Dongmin.  
  
“We have hot tea for you,” Sanha said.  
  
“And we saved you some food,” Bin said.  
  
Minhyuk set up the tray of food beside the bed where Dongmin could reach it.  
  
“I’m fine,” Dongmin said. “Really. I just have to take it easy till I heal.”  
  
“What happened?” Bin asked.  
  
Dongmin said, “A nail stuck in my left butt cheek.”  
  
Sanha blinked. Myungjun blinked. Bin blinked. Minhyuk glanced at Jinwoo. He didn’t look surprised.  
  
“Is...is your butt okay?” Sanha asked finally.  
  
Dongmin nodded. “Yeah. The doctor said the nail didn’t hit nerves or muscle or anything important. My fat saved me.”  
  
Sanha bit his lip. Myungjun bit his lip. Bin made a muffled choking sound.  
  
Dongmin sighed. “It’s fine. You can laugh. Manager already did.”  
  
Sanha burst out laughing. Myungjun collapsed on the floor beside him, shrieking with laughter. Bin pressed his hands to his mouth, trying to stifle his giggles. Even Jinwoo was having trouble keeping a straight face. How had he managed it this whole time?  
  
Minhyuk took several deep breaths, forcing himself to focus. Then he reached out, carefully patted Dongmin’s posterior on the uninjured side. “I’m glad it wasn’t serious.”  
  
“Is it going to leave a scar?” Sanha asked, finally able to breathe again. “Is your perfect, precious ass ruined forever?”  
  
“As long as you keep the wound moisturized, scarring should be minimal,” Minhyuk said, because his mother had taught him well, lest he be injured and scarred from his taekwondo competitions.  
  
“Dongmin’s fat ass is perfect just the way it is,” Myungjun said, “because it saved his life, all right?”  
  
Jinwoo reached out and patted Dongmin on the uninjured side of his rump as well. “Don’t worry if it scars. It’ll be very manly. You can tell your future wife -”  
  
“Shut up and give me some food,” Dongmin said finally, pouting. “I’m still in pain, you know.”  
  
Minhyuk pushed the tray closer to him and handed him a pair of chopsticks. “Just so you know,” he said quietly, “you’re never going to live this down.”  
  
“I know,” Dongmin said. “I know.” He pouted some more. “Feed me?”

Myungjun and Jinwoo took turns wielding the chopsticks and spoons to feed him, while Sanha plied him with tea. Minhyuk and Bin knelt beside him on the bed, Minhyuk giving him a foot rub while Bin gave him a back rub. When all was said and done, they pushed Bin’s bed next to Dongmin’s, and the six of them piled on together, all on their stomachs, heads pillowed on their arms. Jinwoo arranged several blankets over them.  
  
“Manager gave us the day off tomorrow,” he said, voice deep with drowsiness. “Let us know if you need anything, all right, Dongmin?”  
  
“Don’t you mean _Ungdongmin?”_ Sanha asked.  
  
Bin giggled.  
  
Myungjun snickered as well.  
  
Dongmin sighed. “I’ll let you know,” he said.  
  
Minhyuk said, “Good night, hyung. Feel better in the morning.”  
  
“Thanks, Minhyuk. At least one of you isn’t a traitor.”  
  
Minhyuk said, “Ungdongmin.”  
  
“Yah!” Dongmin shoved him off the edge of the bed.  
  
Minhyuk banged his elbow, but it was worth it.  
  
It was Jinwoo who remembered they had to give Dongmin one last dose of pain meds, and then they settled down to sleep for real, Dongmin tucked into the middle, protected from harm. They’d all laugh about this in the morning.


	11. OT6 gen fluff humor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the breakfast comment_fic prompt: "To Be Continued, any, someone makes breakfast for the rest of the members."
> 
> OT6 Gen. Fluff. Humor.

Eunwoo came awake, startled by noise coming from the main room of the dorm. He was the first one awake, as a rule, so if someone was in their dorm, they were being burglarized.  
  
He eased out of his bunk, stretched up on his toes, and shook Bin’s shoulder.  
  
Bin groaned wordlessly.  
  
Eunwoo shook him harder. “Someone broke into the dorm.”  
  
Bin opened one eye. “Wha -?”  
  
“Hear that? We’re being robbed.”  
  
Bin frowned, managed to tumble out of the top bunk without botching the landing or making too much noise. He tugged Eunwoo behind him and inched open the door.  
  
Eunwoo peeked over his shoulder, trying to see what was going on.  
  
On the other side of the den, the other bedroom door was partially open. MJ and Jinjin were peeking out of their room, MJ with his glasses askew, Jinjin holding what looked like one of MJ’s music theory textbooks as a weapon.  
  
And then Sanha said, “Hey, can you pass me that spatula? I think I need to turn these pancakes now.”  
  
“How about I turn the pancakes and you finish setting the table? Quickly, before Eunwoo-hyung wakes up. You know he always gets up so early,” Rocky replied.  
  
MJ flung his and Jinjin’s bedroom door open. “Yah! I thought you were thieves. What were you thinking? I have a weak heart.” He righted his glasses and stomped into the kitchen.  
  
Sanha yelped. “Hyung! You’re not the only one with a weak heart!”  
  
Jinjin groaned and let MJ’s textbook thump to the floor. “How long till the food is ready? I want to go back to bed.”  
  
“Do you need a hand?” Eunwoo asked.  
  
Sanha was wearing an apron and beaming. “No, feel free to sit and relax. We have everything under control, right, Rocky?”  
  
Over Sanha’s shoulder, Rocky was shaking his head vehemently, but as soon as Sanha turned to him, he pasted a smile on his face and nodded vigorously.  
  
“I’m going back to bed,” Bin mumbled. “Call me when it’s ready.” And he shuffled across the bedroom, sprawled on Eunwoo’s bed.  
  
Jinjin also retreated to get what extra sleep he could - sleep was an even more precious commodity, now that they were trainees - but MJ stepped into the kitchen.  
  
“Those pancakes are going to burn.” He nudged Sanha aside with his hip, scooped up the spatula, and flipped them effortlessly.  
  
“Since when do you know how to do that?” Sanha asked. “Rocky can do the thing where he just tosses the food in the pan. Show them.”  
  
Rocky picked up a smaller wok obediently and, with an expert flick of his wrist, tossed its contents smoothly, without losing a single grain of rice.  
  
“What’s the occasion?” Eunwoo asked, reaching into the cupboard for dishes to finish setting the table.  
  
“We’ve worked really hard recently, and I’m really proud of us,” Sanha said. “So - breakfast for the hyungs! Because we love you.”  
  
“We love you too.” MJ reached out and ruffled his hair, causing him to protest.  
  
“Sanha, could you go get me some more pepper? For the fried rice,” Rocky said.  
  
MJ raised his eyebrows, but Rocky shook his head minutely.  
  
Sanha, distracted by peering at a recipe on his phone, nodded. “Right away!”  
  
Between Rocky and MJ, Sanha was kept very busy but away from the actual cooking, though he did help taste-test everything. Once Eunwoo was finished setting the table, he had the arduous task of dragging Jinjin and Bin out of bed, but after some liberal application of banana milk and shoulder rubs, both of them were awake and mostly alert at the table.  
  
Sanha shooed MJ and Rocky to the table, then served up the food with a flourish.  
  
“You made us breakfast?” Bin peered at him blearily. “Can you even cook?”  
  
Rocky shoved a piece of spring onion pancake into his mouth. “Just enjoy.”  
  
Bin chewed for a few moments, expression thoughtful. “That’s - better than I thought it would be.”  
  
Sanha pouted.  
  
Jinjin said, “Thank you very much, Sanha. I’ll eat well.” And he dug into the kimchi fried rice.  
  
The others took that as their cue, and soon they were all enjoying the food. Eunwoo looked around at all of them and felt wonderfully warm inside. They’d made it so far as a team, and they still had a bright future ahead of them.  
  
“Any special occasion?” Jinjin asked, halfway through his second bowl of rice.  
  
“Because,” Sanha said. “We’re going to be stars.”


	12. OT6 gen humor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the snacks comment_fic prompt: "To Be Continued, any, a trip to 7-Eleven."
> 
> OT6. Gen. Humor.
> 
> The boys organize a trip to 7-Eleven before practice.

MJ cleared his throat. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it -”  
  
“Hyung,” Sanha protested. “It’s just a trip to the 7-Eleven.”  
  
“Your _mission,”_ MJ repeated, glaring, “is to acquire appropriate quantities of snacks sufficient that we will be able to finish our homework and then do dance practice without needing further trips to the convenience store _or_ vending machines. Jinjin, Eunwoo, and I have made assignments -”  
  
Jinjin threw his hands up. “Leave me out of this.”  
  
“Fine. _Eunwoo_ and I have made assignments,” MJ continued.  
  
Eunwoo distributed reusable shopping bags.  
  
“Sanha and Rocky, you are in charge of beverages. We each need bottled water, but we each also need something flavored. No carbonation.” MJ handed them a sticky note.  
  
He had surprisingly nice handwriting.  
  
“I _am_ an honor student.” MJ cast Sanha a look filled with aspersion.  
  
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” Sanha said meekly.  
  
MJ handed Bin a sticky note. “You, get sweet snacks.”  
  
Bin accepted it, amused. “All right.”  
  
MJ handed Jinjin a sticky note. “You, get savory snacks, the crunchy kind.”  
  
Jinjin nodded.  
  
“What about Eunwoo-hyung?” Rocky asked.  
  
“He’s getting protein snacks,” MJ said.  
  
Bin raised his eyebrows. “What are _you_ getting?”  
  
MJ smiled sweetly and held up his wallet. “I have the money.”  
  
“Okay.” Jinjin pushed open the practice room door, and the six of them filed out.  
  
A long night lay ahead of them, but it would be worth it. Especially with a big bag of MyChews.


	13. a nice, quiet meal (with you) (JinCha, T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the dinner comment_fic prompt: "To Be Continued, Park Jinwoo +/ Cha Eunwoo, eating dinner together because everyone else is gone/busy."
> 
> JinCha. T. What it says on the tin.

“Finally,” Jinwoo said, sinking down at the table opposite Eunwoo, reaching for a pair of chopsticks. “Dinner in peace and quiet.”  
  
Eunwoo nodded and nudged the bowl of japchae toward him with his spoon.  
  
Jinwoo inhaled happily. He loved sweet potatoes. He served himself some, then grabbed some kimchi and some small seafood vegetable pancakes.  
  
When it was just the two of them like this, there was no need for conversation. There were no cameras, no staff or reporters, no chance of fans happening across them. They were in the safety and comfort of the dorms. Neither of them had had to get made up that day. Some days Jinwoo looked in the mirror and thought he’d forgotten what he really looked like.  
  
He ate quietly, contemplating the flavors and textures. He really did miss his mother’s cooking so much.  
  
The pork strips smelled amazing, as did the marinated barbecued beef. Jinwoo hummed happily to himself. Fans - and their parents - would be either appalled or confused at this meal, because they were eating without talking, Jinwoo staring into nothing while he enjoyed the food, Eunwoo behind an actual paperback book, because the opportunity to enjoy a book in relative peace and quiet was rare, and Eunwoo loved books in a way that would have earned him much more mockery if he weren’t as good-looking and athletic as he was.  
  
“Where did you order from?” Jinwoo asked, after sampling some of the sweet heoddeok pancakes. “I don’t recognize this sauce.”  
  
“I cooked,” Eunwoo said absently, turning a page.  
  
Jinwoo focused on him. “You cooked all of this?”  
  
Eunwoo nodded and used his chopsticks to pop a piece of pork into his mouth. He chewed slowly, reading intently.  
  
“For just the two of us?” Jinwoo sat up straighter.  
  
Eunwoo turned another page.  
  
Jinwoo eyed him. Minhyuk was the team chef, enjoyed cooking for cooking’s sake - as well as feeding others - and Bin had managed to cook on camera one time without total disaster (as opposed to Sanha, whose first ever attempt at cooking was on camera and almost resulted in food-poisoning Bin). Myungjun, on account of his training-free childhood, had probably arrived at training the best cook, and Jinwoo could cook ramyeun on the stove, but neither of them were much into cooking. Eunwoo was better at baking, because he was good at the precision that baking recipes required. Baking was science to him.  
  
But for him to have cooked like this was - Jinwoo didn’t know what to think.  
  
Eunwoo was still engrossed in his book.  
  
Jinwoo ate slowly, savoring the taste but also studying Eunwoo, curious. And confused.  
  
“Thank you,” Jinwoo said. “It’s really delicious. I’m impressed. What’s the occasion?”  
  
Eunwoo didn’t seem to even hear him, turned another page in his book.  
  
Jinwoo was even more confused - and then he felt it. A foot against his under the table. He stared at Eunwoo. It was just the two of them at the table. There was plenty of room for both of them, no reason to be knocking knees, not like when it was all six of them.  
  
Eunwoo’s knee pressed against his, warm and firm, and then Jinwoo felt a foot slide up and down his calf.  
  
He stared.  
  
Eunwoo was, by all appearances, still completely engrossed in his book.  
  
Jinwoo felt that leg tangle with his, slide even higher, and he swallowed hard. “What -” He coughed. “What are you doing?”  
  
Eunwoo glanced at him over the top of his book, gaze heated. “Enjoying this nice, quiet meal with you. Why?”  
  
Jinwoo took a deep breath. “Where did you say the others were again?” He should know. He was the leader. But Eunwoo’s foot was stroking even higher - when the hell had he gotten that flexible? - and Jinwoo’s brain was shorting out.  
  
“Minhyuk’s working on new choreo. Bin and Sanha are meeting up with Kangmin. Myungjun is at additional vocal lessons now that he’s going to be doing that musical.”  
  
Jinwoo swallowed hard. “Right.” He was starting to sweat. “How long will they be gone?”  
  
“At least three more hours.”  
  
Eunwoo’s foot was in Jinwoo’s lap, and he couldn’t think.  
  
Jinwoo swatted Eunwoo’s foot aside, leaned across the table, and hauled him in for a kiss.  
  
When they finally parted for breath, Eunwoo said, “Took you long enough.”


	14. Gen WWII AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 1940's comment_fic prompt: "Any, Any, meeting on the eve of the WWII."
> 
> Bin meets with a stranger in an effort to save his sister.

The man’s nametag reads  _ Fujimiya Akira _ but Myungjun assured Bin a dozen times that he’s Korean.

“Is it true?” Bin asks. 

The man glances up, then resumes inspecting the papers that Myungjun also assured Bin, two dozen times, will pass inspection.

Bin clears his throat. “What they’re saying. About taking girls to work in factories.”

The man flicks a glance at Sua, who’s standing half behind Bin’s shoulder. Eomma cried as she cut Sua’s hair. Bin was forced to stand in the corner and face the wall while Eomma and Grandma helped Sua bind her chest flat. Bin’s clothes are a little too big on her, but at least she’ll be warm. A newsboy cap shadows her features, and she has a bit of dirt smeared on her face for good measure. 

“Girls aren’t going to factories.” The man nods and slides the identity and travel documents into a leather folio. They pass inspection.

Bin hands over the money. His family has gone hungry before. They will go hungry again if it means Sua will be safe. The man counts the money, lips moving silently, expression unreadable. He pockets it.

“It’s time to go.” He beckons to Sua.

She makes a small sound of distress. Bin turns to her and speaks softly in Korean.

“You’ll be safe. Myungjun-hyung promised.”

Bin used to despair of Sua’s crush on his older friend. Now he’s pathetically glad for it, because she brightens and nods and then skitters over to stand beside the other man.

Bin adds, “I love you.”

Sua nods but doesn’t speak. Bin has a soft, light voice for a man his size. Sua’s voice is even lighter and will give her away.

The man turns to go, and Bin says, “What’s your name?”  _ Real _ name goes unspoken.

The man bows - the Korean way - and says, “I’m Park Minhyuk.” 

Akira. Bright. Minhyuk. 

Bin nods and bows in return. “I’m Moon Bin.”

Minhyuk says, “I’ll make sure your younger brother joins your American relatives.”

It’s not an easy promise to make. Japan invaded China three years ago. Bin’s people have been cannon-fodder for much longer. 

“I’ll see you again,” Bin promises his sister. It’s an even harder promise to make. 

Sua nods and waves, and Minhyuk leads her to the other end of the dock, where the ship waits.

Bin slips into the darkness himself. Now to rescue his mother and grandmother.


	15. The Dream Store - Chaky - mild horror - Sandman crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the song titles comment_fic prompt: "any, any/any, "Baby-Baby-Baby" By TLC
> 
> In which Morpheus visits a new destination in the Dreaming, the Dream Store, and looks into the dreams of the clerks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than one episode of The Sandman involved songs with lyrics about dreams. I saw this and couldn't resist.

Morpheus sits at a booth in the so-called Dream Store and waits until one of the polite, young, handsome clerks brings him a menu.

In the background, bright, cheery, pop [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwqEXtsvaDg) plays.

_Baby, it’s now, oh my baby  
Your hidden truth  
I’m curious about it_

There are numberless booths at the Dream Store. Everyone who sits at a booth thinks they’re the only person in the Dream Store.

_Baby, at this moment, oh my baby  
What are you dreaming of?  
Hope it’s the same as mine_

There are only six clerks at the Dream Store. Everyone is always attended to by whichever clerk they want, no matter what he is doing or who else wants him.

_You keep spinning around me  
What is this feeling?_

When Morpheus first saw Marv drinking one of the brightly-colored concoctions in a glass bottle, a curious star-like insignia frosted on the side, he was surprised, if only because Marv seems to only enjoy cigars.

The notion of a Dream Store was insulting at first. Creatures do not have to buy dreams; they simply have to sleep.

(No one talks about the time when some people simply did not sleep.)

_I can’t fall asleep  
I’m only thinking about you_

Tonight, the clerk named Dongmin brings Morpheus the menu.

The menu is in English (though the music is in Korean, and the customers speak many other languages, and Morpeus understands all languages, including plenty that have long since faded to the annals of time, and the menu is really in whatever language the customer can read), and there are descriptions beside each color representing the seven soda flavors. Morpheus has come on four previous occasions and tried the red (energy, passion, warm, love), the orange (cheerful, lively, jolly), the yellow (hopeful, happy, delight, joyful), and the green (stable, natural, youth, healing power). Tonight he will try the blue. For two seconds, it reads _clean, pure, success, fine, healthy_ before the words blur out and become _insecurity, anxiety, loneliness, jealousy, exhaustion._

But Dongmin smiles and does not notice the shift on the menu, and he bows politely and takes the menu back once Morpheus places his order, and he hurries away. He returns with a bottle of clear blue liquid with a car insignia frosted on the side. He pops off the top with a bottle opener, offers Morpheus a straw, bows, and walks away.

_I can’t just look at you  
I will go to your house_

Morpheus unwraps the straw, pops it into the bottle, and drinks.

He tumbles into a dream.

Everyone else tumbles into their own dreams, which start in a room that matches the color of the soda they ordered, and is occupied by the clerk they chose to attend to them, who is - at least at the start - attired in an outfit that matches the color scheme of the room. The dream can drift beyond the confines of the colored room, and however far it goes, it never goes beyond the confines of the Dream Store.

Only Morpheus sees the dreams of the clerks themselves.

_Only silence fills up this night  
It shakes me up_

Dongmin’s dream begins in his little blue dream prison, with the bathtub and the slide, with supplies for him to write music, but he isn’t the beautiful, picture-perfect prince the other customers see him as. Every inch of him is ruined and scarred - slashes, scratches, bruises, burns and mars from every criticism and insult he’s heard over the years, some spat in his face _(You think you’re good enough? You were good enough out there, but you’re nothing in here)_ and others behind his back when they thought he couldn’t hear _(he’s handsome but has no talent otherwise)_ and posted on the internet and reposted and reblogged and amplified for the world to see _(he’s such a terrible dancer and not that great a singer but they give him killing parts because he’s a visual)._

He is oblivious to Morpheus standing in the corner of his dream, and he crosses into another dream cell easily, the navy blue one next door (that doesn’t really exist at all, it’s just part of his dream).

In the navy blue cell, Minhyuk dances.

_There’s no exit to you  
I’ve bitten down on the bait_

It’s a desperate, crying Dongmin who pulls Minhyuk into his arms and kisses him. Dongmin is hideous and Minhyuk is beautiful, and for a moment the kiss is like something out of a fairytale, Minhyuk folded in Dongmin’s arms, head tilted back, eyes closed, lashes a dark crescent on his pale cheek. But there are blue flames on Dongmin’s fingertips, and everywhere he touches Minhyuk, he burns.

Dongmin pulls back, horrified and sobbing, apologizing.

Minhyuk doesn’t notice the pain, but he pulls away, and he resumes dancing.

_Our eyes that met  
Your shy smile  
It’s torturing me tonight_

Before Dongmin’s eyes, Minhyuk is consumed in flames, and Dongmin collapses to the ground, a wordless wreck.

In the background, the cute, cheery music plays.

_You torture me all night  
But strangely, I’m excited_

Morpheus finishes the soda and steps out of the dream.

Dongmin, the beautiful clerk, takes the empty bottle from him. The other five clerks assemble - including Minhyuk, hale and whole - and offer him a take-away bag with all seven flavors, which he accepts, because Marv will appreciate the gesture, and he supposes he ought to share with Lucien and Matthew and Nuala.

_Baby, at this moment, oh my baby  
What are you dreaming of?_

[ ](https://imgfly.me/i/XZzpn1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, lyrics are from Astro's Baby


	16. Chaky dorm fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Hallmark Channel comment_fic prompt: "Astro, Park Minhyuk +/ any, I won't run far / I can always be found (The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack by Liars)"
> 
> Minhyuk is always waiting up when Dongmin gets home.

Dongmin input the door code and stumbled into the foyer, kicked off his shoes. Between filming the variety show and the drama, he was drained. He enjoyed filming the variety show, but in a lot of ways it was more demanding than the intensity of the drama because he constantly had to learn new things and adjust to new settings and new people. For the drama he had to inhabit a single character. For the variety show he had to be a computer programmer. A fashionista. A comedian. A farmer. A charity worker. A corporate executive.

When he stepped into the foyer, Minhyuk was curled up on the sofa, drowsing and watching something on his phone, probably dance videos. He wasn’t much for reading. He enjoyed watching dramas, but he and Dongmin had started watching a drama together, and Minhyuk wasn’t the kind to watch ahead without Dongmin.

Minhyuk sat up and smiled. “Hyung. You’re here. Did you eat?”

Dongmin nodded. “I’m here. I did eat.”

“When?” Minhyuk popped out his Airpods and tucked them into their case, set the case and his phone aside, stood.

Dongmin squinted at his watch. “Um.” He really couldn’t remember.

Minhyuk steered Dongmin over to the armchair beside the coffee table. “I’ll heat you up some rice and kimchi and barbecued pork.”

Dongmin nodded. Minhyuk bustled around in the kitchen. He brought Dongmin a bottle of banana milk - Minhyuk was sharing his precious banana milk - and then returned to the kitchen.

Five minutes later, he brought Dongmin a tray laden with steaming dishes of food, a pair of chopsticks, and a spoon.

“Eat up,” he said.

Dongmin smiled. “Thank you. I’ll eat lots.”

Minhyuk didn’t talk while Dongmin ate, let him enjoy the meal, and Dongmin was grateful, because he’d had to be pleasant and conversational all day.

Once the meal was finished, Minhyuk encouraged Dongmin to go wash up for bed, said he’d handle cleaning up the meal.

When Dongmin emerged from the bathroom, Minhyuk gave him a shoulder rub, helped him with his skin care, and sent him to bed.

Not every night was like that. Sometimes when Dongmin came home Minhyuk was practically asleep, but he woke up long enough to give Dongmin a hug and tell him  _ you worked hard _ and then shuffle off to bed.

One night Dongmin came home so late he was pretty sure Minhyuk wouldn’t wake up at all, and he was determined to be as silent as a thief, but Minhyuk was wide awake, Sanha’s laptop across his knees, studying something intently.

“Do the others wait for you?” Dongmin asked. “When you have a late schedule.”

Sometimes, when Minhyuk was working on a song, he’d be out late at his little studio.

“No,” Minhyuk said absently.

Dongmin was confused. “Then do you just wait up for everyone?” 

Minhyuk looked up at him. “I’m not waiting for the others,” he said. “Just for you.”

Dongmin looked at him. It made perfect sense to lean down and kiss him.

Minhyuk kissed him back, warm and welcoming.

It also made perfect sense to lead Minhyuk back to Dongmin’s bedroom, and they fell asleep together.

As long as Dongmin came home to Minhyuk, everything would be all right.


	17. Stray Kids x-over, Felix/Eunwoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Hallmark Channel comment_fic prompt: "Any K-pop/K-drama, Any, One Fine Day (1997)."
> 
> Felix is filming "Felix's One Fine Day" and runs into a sunbae, a sunbae who is also named Felix. Sort of.

Felix wasn’t entirely sure why the behind-the-scenes segment for his show was being called One Fine Day, because the segment covered more than one day of filming, but he had learned long ago not to question the logic - or dubious linguistics - of naming things.

Besides, he couldn’t really be one to throw shade about linguistics, given that his Korean was at a third-grade level at best, rapper slang aside, and his English skills had sort of paused in middle school.

So when he was sitting in the hallway while the art team was decorating the set, reviewing the script, he came across an English word he didn’t know how to pronounce.

He could text one of his parents, he supposed, but they were at work, and his younger sister was at school, and would she know anyway?

Felix tilted the page of the script toward the AD. “How is this pronounced?” he asked in careful Korean.

She pressed a hand to her mouth and said, bashfully, “I actually don’t know.”

Felix tried to sound it out, but it was getting all muddled with Korean in his head, and the way Koreans pronounced English sometimes confused him even more when he tried to say a word in actual English. He lifted his head and asked the room at large, the assembled staff and crew all focused at him, mostly joking. “Does anyone know how this word is pronounced?” He tapped the page.

Someone said, in Korean, “Let me see?”

Felix held the page out obediently.

“The word is  _ insouciant,” _ the stranger said, in Korean-accented English, “but an easier word might be  _ careless.” _

Felix nodded. “Thank you,” and then he really looked up at his helper and froze.

It was Cha Eunwoo.

Sure, Felix had seen him at music broadcasting shows and award shows in passing, and he knew who Eunwoo was, because Hyunjin was friends with Sanha and Eunwoo was on Sanha’s team, but - 

Felix swallowed hard.

And then Felix added, “Sunbaenim.”

Eunwoo smiled, and his eyes crinkled up into little half moons, and Felix had thought all those times people talked about love at first sight were silly, Stray Kids didn’t do a lot of love songs for a reason, but Felix was _in love._

Cha Eunwoo in person was too beautiful to be real, but he was also so smart and he’d helped Felix without hesitation.

Eunwoo said, in Korean, “You’re Australian, right?”

Felix nodded mechanically, not trusting himself to speak, sure his voice would come out an embarrassing squeak even though his deep voice was one of his signature surefire charms.

“You grew up speaking English?”

Felix nodded again, and oh no, Eunwoo probably thought he was stupid now.

Only Eunwoo said, “It was probably difficult, moving to Korea in high school and having to learn high-school level Korean all of a sudden, and stopping learning English.”

Felix could only keep nodding.

Someone shouted, “Felix!”

Eunwoo turned, and Felix stood up, prepared to greet someone politely, only the man who strode up to them slung an arm around Eunwoo’s shoulders and greeted him with cheerful familiarity.

“What are you doing here?” the man asked.

“I’m here promoting with my team,” Eunwoo said politely. 

The man looked at Felix. “This one of your teammates?”

“Ah, no, this is a hoobae I happened to run into,” Eunwoo said. “His name is Felix.”

The man laughed. “Really?”

“It’s his real name. He’s from Australia,” Eunwoo said. To Felix, he said, “When I took English classes abroad, they gave me Felix as my English name, because it means lucky.”

“It is lucky,” Felix said faintly.

“Well, good luck with your promotions,” the man said. “I’ll see you around.”

Eunwoo bowed politely, and the man patted him on the arm and walked away.

“Good luck with your show,” Eunwoo said to Felix, and also started to walk away.

“Thank you, sunbaenim,” Felix said. Then he added, “Could I get your phone number? If I ever need English help again. Or - or Korean help. Sometimes my teammates grow tired of helping me.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Eunwoo turned him down, because plenty of people were probably always asking for his number, but Eunwoo paused and looked at him for a moment, but then he nodded and smiled, and they exchanged numbers, and Eunwoo went on his way, and Felix felt like he was floating on air for the rest of the day.


	18. Chaky famous/not famous AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Hallmark Channel comment_fic prompt: "any, any, The Note (2007)"
> 
> Minhyuk still has the note Dongmin wrote for him all those years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (a sequel to [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939324/chapters/63074443) little piece)

Dongmin sat in the corner of the mostly-deserted restaurant, the remains of his lunch spread out around him, his laptop in front of him, a stack of files at his elbow. He could be working back at the office, but he needed peace and quiet to finish this memorandum, and a popular kimbap restaurant during non-peak hours was quieter than his lavish glass-walled corner office.

Being a top-tier attorney for the wealthiest clients in the city meant his clients thought he was at their beck and call, but really he was at the beck and call of several judges, and the deadlines set by the judges came first, so Dongmin was literally rolling up his sleeves, digging into the pile of legal research his faithful Solah had done for him, and drafting a brilliant legal argument that would blow the other side out of the water.

The auntie who ran the kimbap restaurant looked just as glad for the lull in traffic and eased herself down onto a plastic stool beside the counter. She picked up the remote control and turned up the television in the corner, but Dongmin didn’t mind. One daytime television program didn’t hold a candle to the endless ringing telephones, buzzing cellphones, swishing copiers, beeping fax machines, trilling coffee machines, and endless din that was the office.

The host for whatever talk show the auntie was listening to had a pleasant voice, and Dongmin only half tuned in while he worked.

There was applause from the studio audience, and then -

He lifted his head just in time to see five familiar idols on screen, bowing and giving their greeting.

Astro.

He’d gone to high school with four of them, but then his high school had been the educational institution of choice to plenty of idol trainees.

Moon Bin wouldn’t have graduated from high school without Dongmin’s dogged assistance in multiple subjects.

No. Dongmin had to focus on his memo. He had four days to get this written and turned in to the judge. 

He tuned out their voices and set to writing.

It would be easy to tune them out, because the voice he cared about most belonged to the quietest member, the one who said little during interviews.

Only then he heard that voice. He knew that voice intimately, had known that voice since it was a light tenor, since freshman year of high school, but now it was a little deeper and richer with age. Dongmin knew what that voice sounded like in joy and sorrow, in excitement and anger, in exhaustion and in laziness, in drowsiness and in passion.

He looked up at the screen.

Rocky, the team’s main dancer and lead rapper, was looking earnestly at the camera. He reached into his jacket and fished out his wallet. “Probably my most precious item is this.” He reached into his wallet and drew out a piece of paper that was thin and yellowed around the edges with age. He unfolded it. It had clearly been unfolded and re-folded many times. He held it up for the camera to see.

It was a note. 

It read: “ Park Minhyuk, you are hardworking and talented and also very handsome and charismatic, and I admire you very much. I like you. Do you like me? Check yes or no.”

The two check boxes had been drawn very neatly, with a ruler.

“My real name is Minhyuk,” Rocky explained. “This note was given to me by my very first - and biggest - fan, back when I was still a trainee.”

The show’s hostess cooed. “That’s so sweet. Your fan has such lovely handwriting.”    


Dongmin smiled wryly. He’d often received compliments for his handwriting in school. And then horror curled through him. Would any of his former classmates recognize his handwriting?

“But I noticed you didn’t answer her,” the hostess continued.

“Well, at the time my fan didn’t have a pen, so I answered in person,” Rocky said.

The hostess cooed again. “That’s so sweet. Your fan was the luckiest.”

Rocky ducked his head. “The lucky one is me.” He refolded the note with careful hands, tucked it back into his wallet, and tucked his wallet back into his jacket.

Dongmin noted that Rocky was wearing a familiar silver ring, one engraved with a mathematical equation for which the solution was infinity. 

After a moment, Dongmin scooped up his phone and sent a text message.  _ You looked good on TV today.  _ It wouldn’t be read till much later, but that was fine. 

The hostess moved on to the next member, and Dongmin forced himself to get back to work. He couldn’t help but smile as he kept on typing, though. He always wore his matching ring.

When he finally got back to the office - having just dodged the kimbap restaurant’s next rush hour - he had a message waiting for him.

“He didn’t leave his name,” Solah said, apologetic. She cleared her throat and added, “His voice was familiar. I think he’s called before.”

Dongmin accepted the message slip from her and carried it over to his desk. He set down his laptop bag and sank into his chair, read the message.

It read,  _ The answer is still yes. _

And Dongmin smiled.


	19. Soul Plate/SPN crossover - Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Earth comment_fic prompt: "Any K-pop/K-drama, Any, Earth Angel (Will You Be Mine) (The Penguins)."
> 
> Two for the price of one, K-pop and a K-drama, an Astro/Soul Plate crossover, with some SPN thrown in.
> 
> Minhyuk vessel for the angel Rumiel, notices something is awry with one of the other vessels at Soul Plate, his boyfriend Dongmin.

At the end of the day, the pink and purple glowing sign winked out - and the angels were gone. One moment Minhyuk was a prisoner in the back of his own mind, the next there was a massive rush of light and energy and the sound of mighty wings, and then he was himself. In full control of his own body, and Rumiel was gone.

All the angels were gone.

All except Raviel, who stayed vigil all night, roaming the little building that served as restaurant and headquarters. The others recovered more slowly, changing out of their restaurant uniforms and back into their own clothes in a daze. Sanha changed back into his school uniform and got his backpack and guitar case out of his locker and shuffled for the door. Jinwoo pulled on casual clothes and grabbed his book bag and headed for the hagwon where he taught drums to kids in the evenings. Bin slung a gym bag over one shoulder. He was a fitness trainer at a fancy gym downtown. Myungjun had a heavy book bag, was studying architecture at university. Minhyuk wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but at the end of the day all of them thought they’d just had a normal day of classes and studying.

Because the angels who possessed them were superhuman, hyperintelligent, they were gaining the knowledge they needed, weren’t falling behind in their studies.

_Just for a while,_ Rumiel had whispered to Minhyuk while he’d been kneeling at his little brother’s bedside in the hospital, promising anything if his brother survived the car crash. _Just a season._

Why Minhyuk was the only one lucid to the process, he didn’t know.

And why Dongmin was the only one who was never set free from Raviel, he didn’t know.

Minhyuk knew he ought to hurry, ought to grab his gym bag and run to the dojang where he taught the kids’ taekwondo class on Tuesdays (he taught boys’ ballet on Wednesdays, kids’ tap on Thursdays, beginner hip-hop on Fridays), but he went to the kitchen instead.

Raviel stood at the stove, arms crossed over his chest, staring at nothing.

“Hyung?” Minhyuk asked, but it wasn’t his Dongmin-hyung, he was pretty sure.

“Hyung, it’s me, Minhyukie.”

Even though Minhyuk knew the angels could access their memories at will - could access their language and memories, their gestures and mannerisms, impersonate them to interact with their families - how much did they  _ know? _

What Minhyuk didn’t know was how long his season with Rumiel would last, and whether the others would be with their angels for as long.

“Hyung, I have to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Minhyuk tip-toed into the kitchen and leaned up, kissed Raviel on the cheek. He whispered, “Love you, Dongminnie.”

And then he headed for the door.

Of course, there was no response.

The next morning, when he arrived at the restaurant, Sanha was already in his waiter uniform.

Bin arrived next, and Jinwoo, but not Myungjun.

“Who are you?” Minhyuk asked.

The boy turned to him, expression kind of blank. “My name is Kwon.”

Minhyuk dashed into the kitchen, but Raviel was still possessing Dongmin. 

“Go change into your uniform,” Raviel said.

“Yes, hyungnim,” Minhyuk said. After the restaurant closed, he’d go check on Myungjun. And he’d wait, till Dongmin was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plus super stealthy crossover.
> 
> And now, a [sequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26835892/chapters/66400303).


	20. OT6 Gen high school Sense8 AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Tales from the Dark Side comment_fic prompt: "Astro, Cha Eunwoo + any, There's someone in my head / But it's not me (Brain Damage by Pink Floyd)."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for minor violence and bullying and possibly pervy teachers.

“I _am_ in your head,” Bin said, “but you’re not crazy, because I’m _real.”_  
  
It had taken Dongmin a long time to come to grips with the fact that there were not one but five other voices in his head - and that he wasn’t crazy.  
  
Unfortunately, the adjustment period had taken its toll, and he’d gone from being his school’s golden boy to being the crazy one, and some of the other students had seen his fall from grace as a chance to play out their petty revenge fantasies from years of pent-up jealousy.  
  
Dongmin sat curled up in a corner of an empty classroom, panting from where one of the boys on the judo team had nearly choked him unconscious.  
  
“Okay fine,” he said to thin air - and the five boys assembled around him. It was easier to picture them with him than just hear them in his head. They were real people and he felt less crazy when he focused on that.  
  
“What should I do?”  
  
Jinwoo had the sensible suggestion that Dongmin pass off his recent adjustment to being part of a sensate cluster as a bad reaction to stress and use it as an excuse to scale back his studies a bit, relax more, have more fun. Now that he had adjusted, he could get back to normal.  
  
“He has to deal with the bullies, though,” Bin said.  
  
“Let me kick their asses,” Minhyuk said. He had his fourth degree black belt in taekwondo.  
  
Dongmin was a little afraid of him even though he also knew Minhyuk was a mama’s boy and liked to make beaded jewelry and slept with a stuffed wolf.  
  
They all knew too damn much about each other.  
  
“I’ll get into trouble if I get into a fight,” Dongmin said.  
  
Myungjun smiled. “Only if you get caught.”  
  
Dongmin said, “The school has an extensive CCTV system.”  
  
Sanha did that weird thing where he crossed his arms and interlaced his fingers to stretch them. “Leave that to me.”  
  
It was Myungjun, who had extensive experience pulling pranks, who shoulder-surfed one of the bullies in the computer lab to get his computer login information.  
  
Myungjun also did most of the set-up for the attack. He picked a spot that had only a couple of CCTV cameras and every couple of days he nudged them just a little till he’d created a blind spot. He used a similar method to create another blind spot in a computer lab.  
  
And then Sanha set to work, using the bully’s login information to post all kinds of horrible and untrue rumors not only about Dongmin but about teachers who favored him.  
  
“Why teachers?” Dongmin asked.  
  
“The school administration will be more motivated to deal with the rumors if it’s to also protect their staff,” Jinwoo said wisely.  
  
“Why those teachers but not those teachers?” Dongmin asked, peering at the faculty list. He’d stepped back and let Sanha take over his body to do the computer work.  
  
Bin clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Haven’t you noticed? These teachers make you run errands all the time even though you’re not in their homerooms.”  
  
“I am a class president though,” Dongmin said.  
  
Bin stared at him. Jinwoo stared at him. Myungjun stared at him. Minhyuk stared at him.  
  
Sanha said, “I would also metaphorically stare at you but I’m busy right now.”  
  
“What?” Dongmin asked.  
  
“They ask you to run errands so they can look at your face,” Bin said.  
  
Dongmin frowned. “You’re just saying that because you’re an ulzzang.”  
  
“They’re perving on you,” Myungjun said.  
  
“They’re not,” Dongmin said.  
  
Minhyuk _looked_ at him.  
  
Dongmin swallowed hard. “Are they?”  
  
Jinwoo said to Sanha, “Type faster.”  
  
Sanha made an affirmative sound.  
  
Jinwoo turned to Minhyuk. “You ready?”

“Always,” Minhyuk said.

Bin and Myungjun lured the bullies to the blind spot with their combined acting and taunting skills.  
  
Dongmin insisted on facing them himself one last time.  
  
He said, “I’ll admit that there’s someone in my head who’s not me. Maybe that makes me crazy. Maybe that makes me twice as smart - or even six times as smart - as the average human. That doesn’t give you the right to treat me like you have. You can apologize and I’ll let you walk away and we can forget this ever happened. Or -”  
  
“Or what?” The leader of the bullies sneered.  
  
“Or you can meet the other people in my brain,” Dongmin said.  
  
The bullies laughed.  
  
“Who have you got in there?” one of them asked.  
  
Minhyuk wasn’t much of a talker.  
  
He struck first, and he struck fast.  
  
Taekwondo was mostly kicks. They could be flashy and fancy, jumps and spins in competition demonstrations. In real life they were powerful and brutal, snapping ribs, blowing out knees, shattering jaws. Dongmin was taller and heavier than Minhyuk. Minhyuk’s speed and precision in Dongmin’s bigger, stronger body made for more destruction than even Minhyuk had anticipated.  
  
But it was Jinwoo who knelt beside the leader of the bullies as he lay sobbing and gasping on the floor.  
  
“You had your chance, and you wasted it. Stay away from us,” he said.  
  
And then he stood up, and they walked away.  
  
Bin played frightened and hurt and contrite when he was called to the teachers’ office the next day when the malicious rumors on the school website were discovered.  
  
The bullies were alleging he’d assaulted them, but he had no martial arts training and he wasn’t on any of the CCTV and they’d been picking on him for weeks.  
  
Sanha had dug up the CCTV footage of the bully trying to choke him for extra sympathy points. He’d been so stressed out and scared and tired recently and he hadn’t had the strength to fight. He’d lost so much weight. He was doing his best to recover and study hard so he could bring honor to his school during the debate and robotics tournaments in the spring semester.  
  
The teachers were torn between trying to comfort him and not getting too close lest they confirm the rumors on the forum.  
  
Myungjun sealed the deal with some theatrical crying.  
  
The principal called his parents to take him home and let him rest for the day.  
  
His mother fussed over him and made him all his favorite food and promised to let him quit two of his subjects at hagwon. (Jinwoo could help him with English and Myungjun could help him with math anyway.)  
  
“What next?” Bin asked, sprawling on the bed beside Dongmin.  
  
“Next is you,” Jinwoo said. “You need help with your grades.”  
  
“Which ones?” Sanha asked.  
  
Myungjun said, a little grimly, “All of them. Except PE.”


	21. Gen MJ-centric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the lasts comment_fic prompt: "Any, any child, picked last for a sports team."
> 
> When Myungjun was a child, he was always picked last. As an adult, he brings home the gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring child OCs.

“Kwon!” Haecheul shouted.

Kwon trotted over to his team.

“Ohseong!” Daegu pointed.

Ohseong shuffled over to his side of the line.

Myungjun stood at the back of the group, watching as the teams grew and grew.

Finally Haecheul said, “Myungjun, since he’s all who’s left.”

It wasn’t Myungjun’s fault that he was so small. All his life he’d been smaller and skinnier than the other boys. He didn’t get to stay after school and play basketball or baseball or soccer with them, because he had to go to the hospital and keep his mother company. Even if he just sat by her bed while he studied, it made her feel better. So he wasn’t nearly as good at sports.

But the coach blew his whistle, and Myungjun did his best to chase after the ball, kick it toward the other goal. But he wasn’t good at running, and he wasn’t good at kicking. Every time he lost the ball, he heard his teammates groan, and he was all too glad when the coach blew his whistle again, signalling the end of the game.

Oh well. Even though he’d probably get picked last again, he’d play his hardest next game.

* * *

  
Twenty years later, Myungjun stood in a massive stadium, listening to hundreds of girls chant his name.

He took a deep breath, drew back, ran, kicked the ball.

It sailed into the goal well beyond the goalie’s reach.

The girls screamed and cheered.

He did a shameless victory dance, so shameless that the boys on the other team - idols who all also engaged in fanservice - gaped at him.

His own teammates just laughed.

Later, while he and his teammates crowded onto the podium and kissed their gold medals and thanked their fans, he remembered his little self in elementary school getting picked last for soccer and thought it had been worth playing his hardest every time.


	22. Gen pre-debut H/C slightly cracky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the mystery comment_fic prompt: "Astro, Lee Dongmin|Cha Eunwoo +/ any, something important has gone missing but Detective Dongmin is on the case."
> 
> There's been a theft in the dorms and Dongmin is ready to sort it out.

Jinwoo is the oldest in the dorms and everyone listens to him, so when Dongmin assembles everyone in the den, the trainees are curious.  
  
Minhyuk is standing beside him, curled into a hoodie, face shadowed, hands jammed into the pouch pocket in the front. Even though Minhyuk isn’t one of the oldest trainees, not by a long shot, he and Bin are two of the senior-most trainees, and everyone knows that he and Bin are two of the best dancers and singers - and Minhyuk is one of the best rappers. If Minhyuk were just a bit prettier, a bit cuter and sweeter, he’d have debuted solo or maybe in a duo with Bin by now.  
  
Dongmin puts a hand on Minhyuk’s shoulder and says, “Minhyukie’s stuffed wolf is missing.”  
  
There’s silence and some awkward shuffling in the other ranks of the trainees.  
  
Minhyuk is a strange study in contradictions. He has his fourth-degree black belt in taekwondo and competes on weekends, comes back with trophies that the trainee managers proudly display in a case in one of the practice rooms. Where the other trainees struggle to submit one dance video a week, the dance instructors yelled at Minhyuk because he was submitting ten a week. But he’s also first in line to call his mother every week during the weekly phone call and he sleeps with a stuffed wolf.  
  
If it’s missing, well - no wonder he looks so miserable.  
  
“Obviously Minhyuk wouldn’t misplace his wolf,” Dongmin says. “And the cleaning ahjummas know not to touch it. Which means someone here took it.”  
  
The other trainees exchange nervous looks.  
  
Bin, who hit his growth spurt last year, straightens up, looming. His expression is dangerous.  
  
“If the thief doesn’t return it,” Dongmin says, “I will find it. And when I do find it, whoever took it will wish he had never been born. So. You have until I’m finished to step forward and confess. And then…”  
  
Then what?  
  
Dongmin reaches into the bag beside him and pulls on a white uniform shirt, begins to button it up.  
  
Is he putting on his school uniform? Will he go to the company in the middle of the night and tell the trainee managers about bullying in the dorms?  
  
He straightens the cuffs and smooths them down, buttons them.  
  
Then he reaches into the bag for a pair of trousers and pulls them on. He tucks the shirt into them, zips them up, buttons the fly. He puts on an old-fashioned tie thingie, and then a vest, and a pocket watch, and then a socks, and then a long coat, and a crazy hat, and -  
  
“Wait a minute,” Jinwoo says, because Dongmin has actually dressed up as Sherlock Holmes.  
  
Some of the boys giggle, but Dongmin just points at Sanha and says, “You. Where were you between two and five this afternoon?”  
  
Sanha blinks. “Me? Ah...I was at practice?”  
  
Dongmin’s eyes narrow. “So you’re saying you skipped last period at school?”  
  
Sanha’s eyes go wide. “What? No! I -”  
  
Dongmin points at Junyong. “You! Where were you at four this afternoon?”  
  
Junyoung looks panicked. “Um. Ah - vocal rehearsals! I have vocal practice at four.”  
  
“Our vocal coach called in sick today. Try again.”  
  
The trainees all cluster closer together, looking very nervous.  
  
Finally, Seokwon says, “Here, take your stupid wolf back.” And he shoves the stuffed wolf into Minhyuk’s arms.  
  
Seokwon goes to head back to his room, but Jinwoo catches his arm.  
  
The rest of the trainees disperse so Jinwoo can dispense discipline in private.  
  
Minhyuk sinks against Dongmin’s side, hugging his wolf. “Thanks, hyung,” he says quietly.  
  
Dongmin says, “Elementary, my dear Minhyuk.”  
  
They stay like that for a little while, until Minhyuk, after several sleepless nights, slips into dreams.


	23. Gen Ancestor line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the lasts comment_fic prompt: "Any, Any, Just one last dance before we say goodbye"
> 
> Bin wants one last dance with his best friend before he enlists.

“What time are you going to meet your family for beef?” Minhyuk asked.  
  
“In a couple of hours,” Bin said.  
  
Minhyuk reached up and ran a hand over Bin’s shorn head. When Bin had posted a selca with his new haircut, the fan reaction had been immediate, the comments flooded with mostly crying emojis.  
  
“You look the part,” Minhyuk said.  
  
Even though Dongmin had worked hard to have a good physique, and Sanha too, Bin had always had the best muscle definition, had sort of been the Wonho of their team, and with his military-short hair, he looked like some kind of special forces action star.  
  
Beef was the traditional meal before a man enlisted. When Myungjun had enlisted, the team had all gone to dinner with him. He’d finished his enlistment right before Jinwoo had to enlist, but then Dongmin had enlisted, and now Bin had to go, and Jinwoo would be getting out soon, but then Minhyuk would have to enlist right before Dongmin got out, and then Sanha would enlist right before Bin got out, and they’d go for years without really seeing each other, and it would be hard.  
  
Even though they weren’t nearly as close as fans thought they were, they were still a team, still friends, and Bin and Minhyuk had grown up together in a way the others hadn’t.  
  
“You will soon too,” Bin said.  
  
“I was just thinking,” Minhyuk said. “Before you go. We should dance together, one last time.”  
  
Because what better way could they say goodbye?  
  
Bin nodded, and they found and empty practice room, turned on some music.  
  
Even though both of them loved hip-hop and R&B and street dance, they’d taken jazz and modern and ballet together, and it was an unspoken decision to kick off their shoes and turn on softer music and then just move.  
  
At first they just experimented, remembering their jumps and turns, but then they let the music carry them together into shared extensions and holds, and then Bin put his hands on Minhyuk’s waist and said,  
  
“Jump when I say jump,”  
  
And Minhyuk nodded.  
  
Together they swayed to the music, looking into each other’s eyes, and when the violins swelled, Bin said, “Jump.”  
  
And Minhyuk jumped, and Bin swept him into the air, and they were poised, and Minhyuk felt like he was flying, and then Bin spun and Minhyuk tumbled down into his arms, and they laughed and kept on spinning, and finally they collapsed to the floor, breathing hard.  
  
“I’m going to miss you,” Minhyuk said.  
  
“You too.”  
  
“It’s only two years.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Ancestors forever.”  
  
“Ancestors forever.”


	24. Gen OT6 bodyswap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the free-for-all comment_fic prompt: "author's choice, any ensemble, bodyswap shenanigans"
> 
> In which the boys have swapped bodies...with each other.
> 
> Except Minhyuk. He's still himself.

“You know, all those times in interviews we were asked ‘if you could be in someone else’s body for a day’ and I picked you, I take it back,” Myungjun said. He was standing at the bathroom mirror and staring at himself, because he had Dongmin’s face.  
  
Dongmin wasn’t in Myungjun’s body, though. He was in Jinwoo’s. “I feel kind of dizzy. Do you have some kind of permanent vertigo problem? I think I’m going to be sick.” He staggered toward the other bathroom.  
  
“Who did this?” Bin demanded. He was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, and he was in Myungjun’s body. “How the hell did this happen?”  
  
“This only happens in dramas and fanfiction,” Jinwoo insisted. He was in Sanha’s body and kept knocking his knees and elbows into things, because Sanha was all limbs.  
  
Sanha was doing remarkably well in Bin’s body, because they’d been practicing for their subunit debut a lot, and they were relatively close in height.  
  
Bin narrowed his eyes at Minhyuk, who was sitting cross-legged on the sofa and eating a bowl of japchae. “It had to have been you. You’re the only one who’s still in his own body.”  
  
“Because I’m happy with my body,” Minhyuk said with a shrug.  
  
“We need to think,” Jinwoo said. He sat beside Minhyuk.  
  
Minhyuk handed him a bowl of japchae.  
  
Jinwoo thanked him, dug in, chewed slowly.  
  
Sanha sat beside him. “Well, in dramas and fanfiction, doesn’t someone have to pray or make a wish or something? Who went to church or a temple last? Did someone throw a coin into a well? Make a wish and blow out a candle?”  
  
There was a pause.  
  
Everyone turned and looked at Myungjun.  
  
He’d finished his trot show and his musical recently. Both of those things had involved celebratory cakes and blowing out candles.  
  
“But I like how I look!” Myungjun protested. “I was the visual in Super Five! They called me the face genius!”  
  
“Maybe even though he isn’t responsible, the key is Minhyuk,” Bin said.  
  
Sanha blinked. It was dizzying, trying to keep track of who was who, hearing formalities and informal speech come out of the wrong mouths.  
  
“I’ve read a lot of webtoons.” Bin sat on the other side of Minhyuk, accepted another bowl of japchae. “Since Minhyuk kept his body because he’s happy with who he is, we need to figure out how to be happy with who we are, and we’ll get our bodies back.”  
  
“How do we do that?” Dongmin asked. He clung to the bathroom door frame and looked green around the gills.  
  
Minhyuk said, “Trip to the sauna.”


	25. Chaky + Jinwoo + Myungjun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the favorite tropes comment_fic prompt: "any, any m/m/m, a classic love triangle."
> 
> Jinwoo watches Minhyuk and Dongmin and wants.
> 
> But they want someone else.

The first time Jinwoo saw them kissing, he was startled, mostly because he didn’t know Dongmin liked boys. Minhyuk had been quite open about the fact that he liked boys, mostly because he was open about a lot of things. He slept with a stuffed wolf. He did ballet. He and Bin had been casual make-out buddies through training till things got serious, till there was talk of possible debut and publicity and cameras all the time.  
  
But Jinwoo staggered into the dorms late one night after he’d spent all day in his personal studio working on a song and there they were, standing in the kitchen, Minhyuk wrapped in Dongmin’s arms, head tilted back while Dongmin leaned down to meet him, kissing sweetly, like a scene out of one of Bin’s webtoons.  
  
Jinwoo had immediately ducked back into the foyer, heart pounding, till he heard them separate, have a murmured conversation about what to make for a midnight snack. And then he made a lot of noise to let them know he was there.  
  
In the days that followed, he watched them closely, and he didn’t notice anything different about the way they interacted, no additional closeness, no stolen glances, but he knew.  
  
And he was jealous, because he’d been in love with Dongmin for years. Everyone had fallen in love with Dongmin just a little bit the first time he’d stepped into the practice room, because he was beautiful. But then he was also goofy and smart and hardworking, and how could anyone resist?  
  
Jinwoo watched them, and then he started to see the cracks in their platonic friendship, the mornings when Minhyuk would slip out of Dongmin’s bedroom, the times when Minhyuk would check his phone right after Dongmin sent a text message on his. He noticed when they started wearing a matching pair of rings. People forgot Jinwoo had been an honor student once upon a time, but the formula inscribed in them - the solution to it was infinity.  
  
Everyone noticed that Dongmin’s dancing was improving, and the others joked that Minhyuk was trying to become closer to Dongmin.  
  
Too late.  
  
Jinwoo considered himself a rational person, a calm person. Minhyuk was handsome, talented, hardworking. He was a dance genius the way Dongmin was, well, an academic genius. He and Dongmin were two sides of the same coin. It was easy to see why they were attracted to each other. But Jinwoo also couldn’t help but wonder, why not me? Because he was also openly bi on the team, had dated boys and girls once their dating ban was lifted. He was smart, had done well in school. He could sing and dance and rap, could choreograph and write songs. He was a good leader. He was patient. What did Minhyuk have that he didn’t?  
  
And then one day Jinwoo walked in on the two of them curled on the couch, talking softly to each other.  
  
“Thank you,” Dongmin said. “I couldn’t do this without you.”  
  
“I couldn’t do this without you either,” Minhyuk admitted.  
  
“But we’ll love him forever, won’t we?”  
  
Minhyuk buried his face against Dongmin’s throat and nodded.  
  
Him? Jinwoo wondered. Him who?  
  
A moment later, Myungjun came bouncing out of the kitchen with a steaming tray of food.  
  
“Here it is! Myungjunnie’s special beef dish!”  
  
Dongmin and Minhyuk separated and sat up, grinning at him, and Jinwoo saw the raw longing in their eyes before they both reached for their chopsticks, and Jinwoo’s heart broke just a little more.


	26. Truman Show fusion - T - pre-Chaky?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the reality TV comment_fic prompt: "Any, Any, Truman Show fusion."
> 
> Dongmin wonders if he's free, and then a light falls from the sky.

Dongmin had always thought his life was calm and orderly, because he went to the same places in the same order every day, because he could set his life by his watch, because people were friendly and everyone dressed well and the weather was predictable.  
  
His world was small, yes, but it was safe. He went to classes; he went to his part-time job; he spent time with his parents. Sometimes he played soccer or basketball with his friends. He didn’t mind that he never left his little town, because there was always something going on - the azalea festival, the art show, concerts from popular artists, productions of popular musicals and plays. It was like living in a big city, but without the noise and bustle of traffic. He could ride his bicycle everywhere.  
  
Except off the island, of course.  
  
His mother was always trying new things, and she was very kind and would explain them to him before she tried them - new foods, new drinks, new kitchen gadgets. Sometimes she kept them, sometimes she didn’t. It made him sad, sometimes, that she didn’t keep the gadgets he liked, but there was always something new.  
  
And then one day he met Minhyuk.  
  
Minhyuk wasn’t like the other students at school. They only stayed for one semester and then moved on - Dongmin’s school was for gifted students, but only a few could make the cut, and besides Jinwoo and Myungjun, Dongmin was the only steady student.  
  
Minhyuk wasn’t as quick at math and science - but he was incredibly physically gifted. He could run. He could jump. He could do all kinds of acrobatic tricks - his father had been a gymnast, he said. He had his fourth degree black belt in taekwondo.  
  
And he could dance. Tap, jazz, modern, hip-hop - and ballet.  
  
When he danced, he was beautiful.  
  
Dongmin loved to watch him dance.  
  
Dongmin knew other students watched him. Dongmin knew he was handsome; he wasn’t naive, and he’d looked in a mirror before, and his mother had taught him how to take care of his skin and comb his hair and dress well when he wasn’t in his uniform. Dongmin also knew he shouldn’t be proud of his looks, because he’d been born with them, but he could also lose them at any moment, and besides, his smarts would get him further in life, and he ought to work hard at those.  
  
But he couldn’t help watching Minhyuk dance.  
  
Minhyuk watched him back, but not like the other students watched him.  
  
One day, between classes, Minhyuk caught Dongmin and dragged him into an empty stairwell.  
  
“Tonight, you should come swimming with me,” Minhyuk said.  
  
That gave Dongmin pause. “I don’t know how to swim.”  
  
Minhyuk said, “I can teach you.”  
  
Dongmin bit his lip. “Well, I -”  
  
Minhyuk leaned up on his toes and kissed Dongmin on the mouth.  
  
Dongmin’s heart skipped a beat.  
  
Minhyuk pulled back enough to whisper, “You should run away with me. Meet me at the dock at midnight?”  
  
Dongmin said, “Okay.”  
  
But when he approached the dock, Minhyuk wasn’t alone. Several people in uniforms Dongmin didn’t recognize were standing with him, arguing with him. They grabbed him. They dragged him away.  
  
Dongmin started toward him.  
  
Minhyuk kicked and struggled.  
  
He shouted, “Free Dongmin!” before someone got a hand over his mouth.  
  
Dongmin never saw Minhyuk again.  
  
But he dreamed of that kiss, and he wondered what Minhyuk had meant. Dongmin was free, wasn’t he?  
  
And then one day a light fell from the sky.


	27. Avatar the Last Airbender AU - possibly pre-Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the tales from the dark side comment_fic prompt: "Any, any, 'til death do us part"
> 
> Minhyuk's job is to guard the Avatar, till the day they die.

“Are you ever afraid?” Sanha asked.  
  
“Why?” Minhyuk asked.  
  
“Because,” Sanha said. “You know. You’re not a bender.”  
  
They were clustered around a campfire, the six of them. Myungjun had started it with a casual flick of his power. Minhyuk, as the team cook, had made supper. Jinwoo, tired from the day’s insanity - a battle against Fire Nation troops who didn’t care that Myungjun had once been their prince; fleeing from a sea serpent; angry villagers who hated all benders - was curled up beside Bomi, Sanha’s air bison, already asleep.  
  
“Plenty of people aren’t benders. They don’t go through life afraid.” Minhyuk stirred the pot of chicken with his massive cooking chopsticks.  
  
Bin had made a ball out of some of the water from his canteen and was drifting it back and forth idly, watching how it bent the moonlight filtering between the clouds from above. As soon as the food was ready he’d be up and at attention.  
  
“But you’re the Avatar’s special guard.” Sanha darted a glance at Dongmin, who was sitting beside Bin and meditating. “You’re constantly in danger because you have to be beside him.”  
  
“So?” Minhyuk said.  
  
“Everyone wants to kill him.”  
  
“Do _you_ want to kill him?”  
  
“Well not _us.”_ Sanha rolled his eyes. “Don’t you wish someone else were his guard?” he asked. “Or don’t you wish you were a bender too? What kind of bender do you think you’d be?”  
  
Minhyuk reached down and toyed with the red string bracelet around his wrist. “No,” he said. “I don’t wish someone else were his guard. And I don’t wish I were a bender. But if I were a bender, I’d be like Jinwoo. An Earth Bender. Because I’m reliable. Like a rock. You can call me Rocky.”  
  
Sanha stared at him for a moment. “You’re not funny.”  
  
Minhyuk grinned. “Say it with me. Rocky swag.”  
  
“Hyung, no.”  
  
“C’mon. Rocky swag.”  
  
Sanha swatted at him. “Go away. Finish cooking.”  
  
Minhyuk laughed and set about finishing the meal. Once it was done, he summoned the others, served them food. He set aside a portion for Jinwoo even though it wouldn’t taste very good cold, and he brought a bowl to Dongmin.  
  
“Do you wish someone else were my guard?” Dongmin asked quietly.  
  
Minhyuk reached out and tapped the blue string bracelet around Dongmin’s wrist. “You know we’re connected by the Old Man Under the Moon himself, by the strings of fate. The balance of nature demands that for the Avatar, the guard be a non-bender. We will be together till death parts us. And we will be reborn together. Always.”  
  
“Maybe next time,” Dongmin said quietly, “you can be the bender.”  
  
“As long as I’m with you,” Minhyuk said, “but I don’t want next time to come too soon.”


	28. Haunted House variety show - Chaky-ish - G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the hauntings comment_fic prompt: "Astro, Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Park Minhyuk | Rocky, they are paired together to go into a "haunted" house while filming a variety show."

Dongmin cleared his throat and reached into his jacket, pulled out his notebook. “This facility was closed in 1995 after the owner abandoned it. Many of his patients died under mysterious circumstances. People suspect that the owner was mentally ill himself and also that he was responsible for some of the patients’ deaths.”  
  
In addition to his notebook, he had a small handheld camera to film his and Minhyuk’s progress in the abandoned Gonjiam Psychiatric Hospital. There was a bigger camera crew filming their approach to the side gate, and more staff stationed inside to film them as they explored. Dongmin suspected that some staff might also be rigging things up to scare them, and he was bracing himself for jump scares or loud sounds.  
  
Minhyuk nodded. He said, “I’ve heard salt repels ghosts.”  
  
“Why salt?” Dongmin glanced at him.  
  
Minhyuk shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because it can be used to purify things?”  
  
Dongmin considered. “That’s true.”  
  
Minhyuk reached into his jacket and drew out the salt shaker from the dorm kitchen. “I’ll protect us.”  
  
Anyone else on the team would have laughed, but Dongmin softened at Minhyuk’s earnest expression. Dongmin knew that Minhyuk knew that Dongmin studied hard and prepared hard because it made him feel less nervous, that Dongmin was easily frightened in dark and scary places. Dongmin was confident about things Minhyuk wasn’t confident about - being handsome, charming, popular with fans, cute, good at school. But Minhyuk was brave and unafraid of dark places, of high places.  
  
They reached the side gate and paused. Dongmin took a deep breath, looked up at the tall, moldy walls, the broken windows, the shadows beyond.  
  
“Ready?” Minhyuk asked.  
  
Dongmin started to nod, then shook his head.  
  
Minhyuk tucked the salt away, then said, “Here, I’ll hold the camera.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Dongmin darted a glance at the staff. They’d given him the handheld camera for a reason.  
  
Minhyuk nodded, so Dongmin passed it over. Minhyuk made sure he had a firm grip on it, and then he held out his other hand.  
  
“Do you want my notebook too?”  
  
“No,” Minhyuk said. “So you can squeeze when you get scared.”  
  
Dongmin blushed, but he curled his hand through Minhyuk’s, and together they headed through the gate.


	29. Forbidden Games crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the deadly games comment_fic prompt: "The Forbidden Game/Any, Julian/Any Ensemble, Julian starts a new game."
> 
> Julian starts a new game...with the boys of Astro.
> 
> Julian/Minhyuk (just go with me on this, okay?).

Sanha had bought the video game for cheap, said it was in beta testing and he’d been given the demo for a steep discount. That should have been the first clue that something was amiss. But Myungjun, Jinwoo, and Dongmin had had fun making the cardboard VR headsets, and all of them had made a big deal about keeping the drawings of their deepest fears a secret before they took pictures of them and uploaded them to the game app.  
  
The six of them gathered around the coffee table, and Jinwoo, since he had the best English pronunciation, read the ‘magical incantation’ written in the lid of the game box, invoking runes.  
  
(“Runes?” Bin asked.  
  
“Like the language of Thor, from the Avengers,” Myungjun said wisely.  
  
“Are we going to be playing in Valhalla?” Minhyuk asked.  
  
Dongmin squinted at the lid of the box. “Niflheim, realm of the shadows.”)  
  
They fired up the app, made sure their phones were synced, and then they put on the headsets.  
  
And then -  
  
Then the boy appeared.  
  
He was beautiful.  
  
Myungjun was an idol. He was surrounded by beautiful boys all the time. He lived with _Lee Dongmin,_ whose stage name was literally synonymous with beauty.  
  
But this boy, with the frost-white hair and ice-blue eyes, was too beautiful to be real. He was tall and slender, pale-skinned and sleek-muscled. And he was magic. And he wanted Minhyuk. Myungjun could see it in his eyes, the way he watched Minhyuk whenever he spoke to the six of them.  
  
It took Myungjun a moment to realize that the white-haired figure in his nightmare room was Julian in disguise, and he knew Julian must be moving through the others’ nightmares.  
  
In Bin’s nightmare, Bin was performing to an unimpressed audience of one, a white-haired old man (who was secretly Julian, Myungjun was sure).  
  
Myungjun stood in the wings of the stage and shouted as loud as he could, trying to be heard over the music Bin was dancing to so he would know he wasn’t alone, so he would know his effort was worth it, so he’d know he was loved. But he could see the fear and exhaustion in Bin’s eyes, and Myungjun knew what he had to do.  
  
He had to free the others from their nightmare rooms first.  
  
Dongmin was trapped in a hell where he was sleep-deprived and forced to memorize copious amounts of information and recite it back, but he had no phone and no notebook and pen. Myungjun broke the cycle of mental exhaustion by imagining up a piece of paper and a pencil for Dongmin to use, and the nightmare room dissolved, and he yanked Dongmin out of the room.  
  
As they ran through the virtual mansion, searching for another doorway to open up, Myungjun explained what he thought was going on, and what they had to do to rescue Bin - and protect Minhyuk.  
  
They climbed a set of stairs, and halfway up a door opened in the wall. Myungjun ducked into it and yanked Dongmin with him.  
  
Jinwoo was standing on a pedestal surrounded by shadowy figures who sounded like management while they yelled at him for letting down his teammates over and over again.  
  
“Hyung!” Dongmin shouted. “We’re here, and we’re fine. You didn’t let us down.”  
  
A white-haired figure wearing a suit just like their old CEO’s drifted among the shadowy figures.  
  
Jinwoo spun, squinting against the spotlight glaring down on him. “Dongminnie?”  
  
Myungjun pushed through the crowd, shuddering at the icy, slimy feel of the shadowy figures, and leaned up, grabbed Jinwoo’s hand. “We’re fine. Come on.”  
  
Jinwoo blinked at him, panting.  
  
But then he jumped.  
  
The pedestal dissolved. The crowd dissolved.

The door reappeared, and they ran.

They rescued Minhyuk from a stark white hospital room, where he was curled in a wheelchair and sobbing, unable to even walk.  
  
It was Jinwoo who managed to coax him back to his feet, convince him that he was uninjured, he was okay, he could still dance.  
  
They rescued Sanha from a prison built like a giant nursery where everything was oversized and he was dressed like a baby and no one would talk to him like he was an adult.  
  
It was Minhyuk and Jinwoo who used some of their break-dancing skills to engineer a human pyramid help Sanha escape from the crib prison cell, and Dongmin who tore him out of the baby bonnet and onesie before the door opened and they all skittered out.  
  
They made it back to Bin’s nightmare room just in time, when there was a break between songs. One of their title songs started up, and Myungjun launched into the fanchant at the top of his lungs. The others joined in, and by the end of the song, Bin was himself, the true center of their team, dancing and smiling.  
  
When the performance ended, Bin seemed to snap out of his nightmare daze.  
  
“What’s going on? This isn’t just a video game, is it?”  
  
“No, but we still have to get out of here before the door closes,” Myungjun said.  
  
As if on cue, they heard the clock ticking.  
  
“The door is in the attic. Run!” Jinwoo shouted.  
  
They took off.  
  
For all that the game was supposed to be VR, the fire in Myungjun’s lungs felt very real by the time they made it to the top of the stairs. There was an open door, and the light shining through it was bright, stark, hyper-real.  
  
No, just real.  
  
It was the way out.  
  
It was - blocked by a giant slavering wolf. Julian stood beside it, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
“You said the door would be open if we made it on time,” Sanha protested.  
  
“The door is open,” Julian said.  
  
Dongmin hissed, irritated. “He’s technically telling the truth. The door’s open, but we can’t get to it.”  
  
“How is that fair?” Bin demanded.  
  
It was Jinwoo who crooned and said, sweetly, “Here, boy!”  
  
“Yah, that’s not going to work,” Myungjun said.  
  
Only the wolf trotted over to Jinwoo and flipped onto its back, presented its belly, and Jinwoo gave it a good scratch. Myungjun stared. Julian stared.  
  
Bin grabbed Minhyuk’s hand and ran for the door.  
  
The others followed.  
  
Jinwoo was the last out.  
  
When all of them came to, they were lying on the floor of the dorm den, VR headsets beside them. They had roaring headaches.  
  
“Was that a dream?” Sanha asked, pushing himself up and rubbing his eyes.  
  
“More like a nightmare,” Dongmin said.  
  
“All our nightmares.” Jinwoo reached out and patted Dongmin’s shoulder.  
  
Bin stumbled into the kitchen for a snack.  
  
Sanha boxed up the game and put it away, and they all agreed to never play it again. Minhyuk, Myungjun noticed, said nothing about it.  
  
Until a few days later, when Myungjun came home from his trot show filming early, and Minhyuk was sprawled on the floor, video chatting to someone on his phone. A pale-haired boy with ice-blue eyes.  
  
“Next time, just ask me out on a date like a normal person.”  
  
“But puzzle rooms are popular now, aren’t they?”  
  
“That wasn’t a puzzle room.”  
  
“Then what do you suggest?”  
  
“If you ate food, I’d cook for you.”  
  
“I’d eat your food anyway.”  
  
Minhyuk’s smile was fond and sweet, and Myungjun was the one who said nothing this time.


	30. Haunted dorm - Dongmin + Bin gen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the urban legends comment_fic prompt: "Astro, ensemble, sharing a creepy story about their dorms"
> 
> Bin warns Dongmin about the ghost in the dorms, but Dongmin is skeptical.

“Haven’t you heard?” Bin asked.

Dongmin blinked. “Heard what?”

“About the ghost who haunts our dorm building.”

Dongmin cast him a sidelong glance. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“I know,” Bin said. “But you’ll hear things around the building sometimes. And things will go missing. Or get moved. I just want you to be prepared.” Bin hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders and picked up the pace.

They were headed from the school to the bus stop to catch the bus to the company building for training.

“You mean the other boys will be stealing and borrowing things without permission,” Dongmin said flatly.

Bin shook his head. “Jinwoo-hyung wouldn’t allow it. Just keep an eye out. It’s an old building. Things have happened. And if you see a girl in a long white dress, with short black hair, don’t look her in the eyes.”

“Short black hair?” Dongmin snorted. “Virgin ghosts have long black hair.”

“What makes you think she’s a virgin ghost?” Bin cast him a look. “They tell us not to date for a reason.”

“Whatever.” Dongmin knew Bin was one of the senior-most trainees at the company.

Dongmin had seen Bin in action, Bin with his best friend Minhyuk, the second-most senior trainee. They were amazing dancers and singers and rappers; why they hadn’t debuted as a duo already was a mystery to everyone. Bin was probably messing with him. Bin was so popular at school. Dongmin had heard how some other boys at school, idol trainees and actors, were jealous now that Dongmin was there. Was Bin jealous too?

But Bin and Minhyuk helped Dongmin learn the choreography in dance practice that day, and Jinwoo shared some of his food with Dongmin on their dinner break.

And that night, Dongmin heard a strange noise, like shuffling footsteps, while he was lying in his bunk.

The next morning, while he was kneeling in the foyer tying his shoelaces, he thought he glimpsed a swirl of white skirts out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look, no one was there.

Some of his pens went missing off the kitchen table when he was trying to his homework two days later.

Minhyuk got annoyed when some of his banana milk went missing, but as it turned out, Sanha had drunk some; that was nothing supernatural.

And then one night, when Dongmin was awake long after the others had fallen asleep, he reached for one of his notebooks, and someone pushed it closer to him.

He said, “Thank you,” and looked up.

The girl with the short back hair smiled at him.

He couldn’t even scream.


	31. Gen OT6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the urban legends comment_fic prompt: "Astro, any, someone mentions a curse in passing and it puts everyone on edge"

“You know what they say,” Manager said, dropping a coin in the fountain as they passed the statue of the turtle in the main lobby.  
  
“What do they say?” Myungjun asked.  
  
“If you don’t pay your respects to the long-life turtle, you’ll lose your voice before a big show,” Manager said.  
  
Myungjun blinked. He paused, fished in his pocket for a coin, dropped it into the fountain.  
  
Back at the dorm, he asked the other trainees about the long-life turtle.  
  
“It’s just a silly superstition,” Minhyuk said.  
  
“But he always puts a coin in,” Bin said, shoving at Minhyuk’s shoulder.  
  
Minhyuk scowled at him and sulked for the rest of the night.  
  
Myungjun watched the rest of the trainees for a while, and he noticed that whenever they headed out for a performance, every single one of them put a coin in the fountain, even Minhyuk, so he put a coin in too, because he was the newest trainee, and he wanted to make friends, fit in.  
  
And then one day they were headed to a performance, and Minhyuk didn’t have a coin. He paused, patted himself down. The others paused, but Manager shouted for them to hurry. Minhyuk shrugged and they all dashed to the van.  
  
In the middle of the performance that night, Minhyuk’s microphone cut out. He didn’t panic, because he was a seasoned performer even at seventeen years old, and Bin, his best friend and an even more experienced performer, picked up his rap part without missing a beat, but afterwards Minhyuk curled up in a corner backstage, trembling.  
  
“Are you all right?” Myungjun asked.  
  
“It was because I didn’t have a coin for the turtle,” Minhyuk said.  
  
Myungjun put an arm around his shoulders. “It wasn’t that bad. You kept your cool. Bin helped out. You were a pro.”  
  
“What if something goes worse next time?”  
  
“You did your best,” Myungjun said soothingly.  
  
They managed to get through the rest of the performance smoothly, but after that, Minhyuk always made sure he had no coins, no matter what.  
  
One day, on his way to a small solo performance for a wedding for one of the company’s executives, Myungjun flipped a coin into the fountain - and saw the stone turtle lean up and catch it.


	32. Gen MJ + Eunwoo friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Alternate Histories comment_fic prompt: "Any, Any pairing/friendship, they meet as kids instead of adults."
> 
> Myungjun and Dongmin grew up right next to each other. History turns out a little differently when Dongmin goes in for his audition.

“You’ll do great,” Myungjun said. “You could be anything you want, a doctor or a lawyer or a judge, but if this is want you want, this is what you will be. I promise, when you go in there, you’ll blow them away.”

Dongmin took a deep breath. “Thanks, hyung.”

Myungjun tilted his head. “No, thank you. You always supported me in my dreams, so it’s only fair that I support you.”

Dongmin raised an eyebrow. “You mean I lied to your parents while you were running around to auditions and while you trained with a Big Three company for two whole years.”

“And I shared everything I learned at that company with you, didn’t I? And now look where you are. Your voice is beautiful. Between your beautiful voice and your beautiful face, you’ll be unstoppable. Now get in there and break a leg.” Myungjun smiled and patted Dongmin on the shoulder, and then he shoved Dongmin through the door.

Dongmin caught himself on the doorframe before he stumbled, and then he made a calm, smooth entrance.

The scouting manager who’d lingered outside the boy’s bathrooms at his school fair was sitting at the end of the table, and he flashed Dongmin a thumbs up. The other three people at the table - two women and another man - wore fancy suits and looked unimpressed.

“Name?” the woman asked.

“Lee Dongmin.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“You’re in high school?”

“Yes, ma’am. First year.”

“Turn so we can see you.”

Dongmin obeyed. He was confident in his looks but knew better than to be arrogant. He was too tanned from spending a lot of time in the sun playing basketball and soccer, but he’d been blessed with his mother’s delicate, even features and his father’s height. His younger brother had a smaller face, but since middle school Dongmin had been turning heads.

“You can play the piano?”

“Yes.”

“Any other instruments?”

“Guitar, violin, and flute.”

“Can you sing?”

“A little.”

The scouting manager looked surprised. After all, when he’d followed Dongmin to the bathroom, it had been during a robotics competition.

The taller woman crossed her arms over her chest. “Sing for us.”

Dongmin was glad Myungjun had made him warm up his voice first. “This is Amen by Monsta X.”

When he was finished, the judges looked at each other and blinked.

“You said you could only sing a little,” the shorter woman said.

“I’ve never had formal lessons,” Dongmin said, “but my best friend can sing, and he taught me what he knows. We’ve been friends since I was very small.”

“Your best friend?” the other man asked. “What does he sound like?”

“So much better than me,” Dongmin said.

“What does he look like?” the taller woman asked.

“He’s shorter than me, but very pretty.” Dongmin fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked his phone, found a picture, held it out.

The judges beckoned him closer.

The shorter woman took his phone from him, and the judges murmured to each other, too low for Dongmin to hear. Then one of them said,

“Could you call your friend? So we could hear him sing.”

“Ah, he’s just outside. He came with me to support me,” Dongmin said. “If you’d like to hear him in person?”

“Sure, call him in,” the scouting manager said.

Dongmin bowed, then hurried over to the door and pushed it open. “Hyung,” he said.

Myungjun, who’d been pacing back and forth, spun around. “Did you pass? Are you an official trainee?” He lit up.

“They want to hear you sing.”

Myungjun blinked. “Me?”

“They liked how pretty I sing, and I told them my best friend taught me.” Dongmin grinned. “Come on!”


	33. Gen Eunwoo + MJ + Rocky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the cryptics comment_fic prompt: "Any, Any, living in a town where the economy is based around a local cryptid"
> 
> Donghwi wants to see the Merboy of the Nam River. Dongmin is skeptical.

“The Merboy of the Nam River?” Dongmin asked.  
  
Donghwi had insisted on coming into the shop. Dongmin would have preferred to stay in the car and read his book, but Donghwi had gotten that look on his face, that _I’ll tell Mom_ look.  
  
Two boys sat behind the counter. One was sketching in a sketchbook, the other knitting. The one sketching paused and looked up, flashed a wide, bright smile.  
  
“The Merboy of the Nam River is elusive, but he exists. All credible sightings are recorded,” he said, pointing to a cork board on the far wall.  
  
It had a calendar on it, with people’s names on it, plus blurry photos pinned to the board around it.  
  
The little shop boasted all kinds of Merboy paraphernalia - beautiful hand-drawn sketches of the Merboy peering out of the water, head and shoulders visible in the morning mist. There were some watercolor renditions, too. He had blue hair and blue eyes and sharp, jagged teeth and a smattering of blue scales across his bare shoulders. There were also knitted scarves and banners, hats and mittens, hand-carved keychains, and some little pendants carved in the shape of water drops. The shop also had some wider Jinju souvenirs, like postcards of the castle, and a cookbook of local recipes.  
  
“Have you seen him?” Dongmin asked.  
  
The boy - Kim Myungjun, his name tag read - smiled again. “I see him every day.”  
  
Dongmin snorted. “Whatever. C’mon, Donghwi. We have to wait for Mom and Dad.”  
  
The other boy, who had no nametag, kept on knitting.  
  
“But hyung, I wanna see the Merboy,” Donghwi protested.  
  
Dongmin herded him firmly to the door. “Merboys don’t exist.”  
  
“He likes to hang out by the dock,” Myungjun said.  
  
Dongmin opened the door and pushed Donghwi through the doorway, marched after him.  
  
“Yah, Minhyuk, business is slow, you better do something about it,” Myungjun hissed, and the door fell shut.  
  
“Can we go to the dock?” Donghwi asked.  
  
“Sure,” Dongmin said, rolling his eyes. Donghwi wasn’t a little kid, was the same age as Minhyuk back there, but he still had his head in the clouds.  
  
They walked away from the car and along the riverbank to a small dock where a few rowboats were tied up and bobbed in the water.  
  
Donghwi immediately rang along the dock to peer into the water for the Merboy. Dongmin followed at a more sedate pace. The river was pretty, but beyond a few boats there’d be nothing to see.  
  
Something splashed.

Donghwi turned. “What was that?”  
  
“Probably a fish,” Dongmin said.  
  
Donghwi grabbed Dongmin’s hand. “Hyung!” He pointed.  
  
Dongmin rolled his eyes. “Donghwi-ya, I told you, it’s probably just a -”  
  
A boy was heaving himself up onto the end of the dock. Blue-black hair was plastered to his face, but Dongmin could see his glowing blue eyes and his jagged, shark-like teeth. Blue scales glimmered on his shoulders and in patches on his arms, and he had a massive dark blue tail as he slithered toward them, hissing menacingly.  
  
Donghwi screamed.  
  
Dongmin recoiled, pulling Donghwi with him. He cast about for a weapon or something, anything. Donghwi was fumbling in his pocket for his phone. Dongmin found an empty soju bottle. He broke it against one of the cement bollards and threw it.  
  
It caught the creature in the shoulder, and it hissed and recoiled, blood spilling from its wound. It rolled and splashed into the river, and it was gone.  
  
“Hyung! Why did you hurt him?” Donghwi protested.  
  
“Because you screamed, and also did you see its teeth?” Dongmin demanded. “Come on. We’re going back to the car.”  
  
“No, we have to go tell those boys what we saw. I think I got a picture,” Donghwi said, poking at his phone.  
  
Predictably, the picture was terrible.  
  
“Why does it matter what those boys think? It’s not like you get a prize,” Dongmin said.  
  
“Well, I want to buy one of the pictures they sell. Obviously they’ve seen it. Those pictures were accurate,” Donghwi said. He marched across the parking lot and pushed open the door of the shop.  
  
The bells over the door chimed, but no one was behind the counter.  
  
“Just a moment, please!” Myungjun called out cheerily from somewhere in the back.  
  
Dongmin sighed, but Donghwi made a beeline for the watercolor paintings.  
  
“Hyung, I think I’ll need stitches,” another boy said, his voice muffled.  
  
Myungjun hushed him. “Next time be more careful,” he scolded lightly. “There are customers. Hold that there. I’ll be right back.”  
  
Myungjun sailed out of the back, wearing a sunny smile. “Hello again! What a surprise. What can I do for you?”  
  
“We saw him! The Merboy!” Donghwi launched into the tale, showed Myungjun the photo on his phone.  
  
Myungjun was a very empathetic listener, nodded in all the right places. He let Donghwi write an entry on the calendar, helped Donghwi convert the photo on his camera to an instant photo and print it and let him pin it to the cork board, and of course he happily rang Donghwi up when Donghwi bought one of the watercolor paintings and a keychain.  
  
“Who paints these?” Dongmin asked. “Local artists?”  
  
“I do,” Myungjun said, “but other local artists have contributed in the past.”  
  
“You’re very good,” Donghwi said, still riding high on the thrill of his supernatural encounter.  
  
“Hyung, it’s bleeding again,” another boy said, poking his head out of the back.  
  
It was the other boy, the knitting boy, Minhyuk.  
  
He was clutching a bandage to his shoulder.  
  
“I’ll be right there,” Myungjun said, “but I’m with a customer right now.”  
  
“I really might need stitches,” Minhyuk said.  
  
Myungjun hissed at him, made a shooing gesture.  
  
Minhyuk looked at Dongmin and Donghwi, and his eyes widened - and flared blue briefly. He bowed his head and murmured an apology, then ducked away again.  
  
Mom and Dad arrived and poked around the shop, and Donghwi regaled them with his tale - now a little embellished - and they oohed and aahed appropriately. Dad thanked Dongmin for looking out for his younger brother. Mom scolded him for breaking a bottle and throwing it.  
  
Minhyuk poked his head out of the back again. “Hyung. It stopped bleeding but I stained my shirt. I need your help.”  
  
Myungjun sighed. “Fine. Go dry your hair before you catch a cold. I’m helping customers.”  
  
Minhyuk nodded and ducked into the back.  
  
Dongmin watched him go and was glad he didn’t need stitches. 


	34. Gen OT6 historical AU - slightly cracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the cryptids comment_fic prompt: "Astro, ensemble, making mochi in honor of the moon rabbit"
> 
> Five orphans work hard and sacrifice a lot to make mochi for the moon rabbit at chuseok in hopes of getting a wish granted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Bin wearing bunny ears during Bad Idea promotions.

“Keep pounding the rice,” Myungjun insisted.  
  
“We’re working on it,” Minhyuk protested. He and Sanha were pounding the rice diligently in the mortar.  
  
Jinwoo and Dongmin were preparing the red bean filling, keeping an eye on the pot where the beans were boiling.  
  
“We have to have the rice cakes ready for the full moon,” Myungjun said. He was flitting around the kitchen, high-strung.  
  
The Mid-Autumn Full Moon was an important occasion. Since they were orphans and poor, one of their best hopes at having a prosperous harvest was to leave offerings for the Moon Rabbit and their ancestors and hope that they could survive the winter so they could leave more offerings for the gods at the Lunar New Year.  
  
Dongmin had worked hard as a scribe for some elders in the village to earn some extra money, and Jinwoo had worked as an accountant for some merchants to earn some money, and Minhyuk and Sanha had run lots of errands and picked up work on some farms, and they had managed to scrape together enough funds to buy rice and beans to make rice flour for rice cakes.  
  
That was all they could afford for offerings this year, which was better than they’d had last year, which was incense and prayers.  
  
Myungjun, who was small and delicate, had done his best to earn money by dressing as a woman and singing at the gisaeng house, which had earned them a lot of money, but he’d almost been caught by some angry noblemen and run out of the gisaeng house, and now they were hiding in the forest at the edge of town.  
  
They were all praying for a better year.  
  
Once the flour was done, they worked together to shape the cakes and fill them with the red bean paste.  
  
It was Sanha who insisted they shape the cakes to look like cute bunnies, and then the five of them headed out to the woods to leave the offering at a shrine for the Moon Rabbit.  
  
They knelt, and they lit the half of an incense stick they could spare, and they closed their eyes and prayed.  
  
“Mmmm, delicious.”  
  
Minhyuk opened his eyes.  
  
A boy stood over them, munching on one of the rice cakes. Minhyuk gaped at him.  
  
The boy finished off the rice cake and dusted rice flour off his hands.  
  
Minhyuk opened his mouth to protest, and then he noticed that the boy had floppy white rabbit ears sprouting out of his head.  
  
The boy knelt and ruffled Minhyuk’s hair. “So, what did you want from me on this Mid-Autumn Full Moon?”


End file.
